Magical Diary: An Untold Tale
by Esmeh
Summary: Magical Diary: An Untold Tale picks up where the epic game of the same name left off. When the game concluded Gwen was finally learning to cope with being married to one of her professors - and not just any professor, the meanest, grumpiest one at Iris Academy - Hieronymous Grabiner. Their fateful story continues, in this exciting adventure/romance! (MC x Hieronymous Grabiner)
1. Chapter 1

Gwen happily tapped her feet in rhythm with the music playing on her MP3 player. The song was called "Spring", which she mused was a perfect contrast with the current weather. It was a typical New Hampshire day - a bright shade of gray with a pitter-patter of rain on the concrete around her. The sun furtively poked out from behind some clouds, then quickly hid itself.

A wrinkled piece of paper sat on the table in front of her. A letter from her husband. It was soft and worn from many readings. She sipped her latte and held up the letter.

_Gwen,_

_I received your missive by courier earlier this week. The regular post is not in service whilst school is on holiday. I was gratified to hear you are continuing with your studies over the vacation._

_Iris Academy is essentially dormant. My lesson plans are complete, so I have wiled away many afternoons catching up on literature._

_You inquired which music I enjoy most. I appreciate many composers, but if I had to choose, I most prefer Vivaldi. You might take pleasure in his set of four concertos called, "The Four Seasons". It is among his most popular works._

_I must conclude my letter for now, a teachers meeting is approaching and I have a series of errands to run. I shall write more next weekend._

_Regards,_

_Hieronymous_

Gwen gently refolded the letter, gave it a gentle squeeze and returned it to her pocket. School had been out for several weeks, but the time moved slowly. She wished she had a picture of her former professor and present husband. Details about him were already difficult to remember; the way he smiled when he would chuckle quietly, the rich tone of his voice, and how the fire could light up in his eyes when he was passionate about something.

"Hey, Gwen!" a cheerful voice called.

Gwen jumped up to see her friend Jun jogging over. Jun swooped her up in a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you again! It's been forever, sister."

Jun always referred to Gwen, and all close female friends, as 'sister'. Gwen being an only child, liked the nickname and returned it in kind. Jun was tall and slim, and although she possessed predominantly Japanese characteristics she had a unique look that was all her own though; some Korean, a little Cherokee, and a splash of Anglo-Saxon.

"It's good to see you, too!"

As they sat down at the table Gwen noticed Jun slip a brightly colored bag with tissue paper out from behind her. Jun set the bag in front of Gwen with a proud grin. "Happy Birthday."

"Hey, my birthday's not until next week. And you didn't need to go to through all the trouble," Gwen said as her cheeks flushed from the attention.

"It's no trouble for my sister. I haven't seen you in forever, stranger. And besides, I'm a responsible, financially independent, member of society. Meaning I make decent money at my job. ...And get a good discount to boot. Now, open it, open it!" She clapped her hands in excitement.

As Gwen dug inside of the tissue paper she removed a bottle of perfume and a small kit of make-up. Gwen laughed a little. "Trying to make me into a girly-girl?"

Jun gave her a mockingly, stern look. "I've known you for four years, Gwenievere Ford. And not once have I seen you wear make-up or perfume. So, I thought to myself maybe she just doesn't have any. Well, now that's been rectified, I expect to see a letter from school telling me how you've been beating them away with a stick."

"Thanks Sis, I have actually wanted to use something like this on the rare occasion."

"Yeah, no problem. So, catch me up on everything. What's new in your life?"

Gwen had been thinking about how to answer that very question for a few days. Parts of her life had to remain secret from old friends and family. Recently she had completed her first year at Iris Academy. A school for those gifted in magic. Keeping magic a secret from the human world was something the magic community took very seriously. Anyone breaking that law would have their magic stripped and memory wiped. The subject of her marriage, and especially its circumstances, were off-limits.

"What's new? Well..." she said in a conspiratorial whisper, motioning Jun closer.

Jun leaned in.

"The truth is, I'm not actually attending boarding school."

"What? Where are you going?" asked Jun.

"I'm secretly attending... Hogwart's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry! And you wouldn't believe it, but through a series of strange events, I accidentally married the potion's master, Severus Snape!"

Jun leaned back in her chair, laughing. "Joker."

Gwen chuckled. "Boarding school is really nice. In movies it gets a bad wrap, but I like it. I made some nice friends."

"That's good, I was concerned. I thought it might be like being in a military school. So, is it like a normal school? Library, clubs, dances?"

"Well, we have a library but it's pretty small. My roommate Virginia started a sports club, which my other roommate Ellen and I, both joined. It's a lot of fun. Then there's drama club and choir, but I'm not a fan of standing in front of a crowd."

"You still haven't answered my question about dances."

Gwen rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out. "Yes, there are dances. No, I didn't go to the dance. Satisfied?"

"Oh come on, you're in the prime of your life. You mean to tell me you don't have your eye on anyone?"

Gwen could feel her cheeks burning.

"Ah-hah, there is someone," Jun said, placing her chin in her hand and looking at her with interest.

"Well, sort of... but we're honestly not _dating_." '_Well,_' she thought, '_it's technically true... we're definitely not dating_.'

"So, you like him... obviously. Does he like you?"

Gwen sighed a little, "That is the million dollar question."

"Ah." Jun paused then said, "Well, if he doesn't sweep you off your feet soon then he's a dummy who doesn't deserve you," and gave her a supportive smile.

"Thanks, Jun." It was nice to talk to an old friend, even if details were off-limits. Jun had a knack for saying just the right thing. Gwen felt a weight lifted, being able to talk to a third party about some of the things going on in her life.

The two talked for awhile longer until the sun began to set and Jun drove her home.

"I'm glad we got to catch up. It's a shame I'll be out of town next week, I wanted to celebrate your seventeenth birthday with you."

Gwen shook her head. "It's no big. I'll eat a piece of cake for you. Have fun on vacation!"

"Alright, I promise I'll sip a tropical drink on the beach for you!"

Gwen waved goodbye from the front porch, and turned to enter the house, but stopped abruptly. She could feel a pair of eyes following her. Her spine tingled and a shiver ran through her body. She could sense blue magic at work. Someone was scrying her, and, she sensed, had been doing it for some time. She stood completely still, a cold sweat forming on her back. As soon as she raised her hand to form a shield, the eyes were gone, and she was alone on the porch.

She had no idea who would want to spy on her. For now, there was nothing she could do about the encounter so she tried to put it out of her mind before entering the house.

Inside her parents were watching TV. Her father hit pause and turned to Gwen.

"Welcome home, honey. Did you have fun with Jun?"

Gwen plopped down on the couch next to her mother. "Yep. We had lots to catch up on. She's doing well managing a store in the mall. What are you guys watching?"

"Some old episodes of Columbo," her father replied.

Her mother pointed at Gwen's bag. "An early birthday present?"

"Jun gave me some make-up and perfume."

"Oh dear," her mother said. "Is it time we had the talk?"

Gwen's face fell. "Uhhhh... the talk?"

"Oh you know, about the birds and the bees," her mother replied.

Gwen felt her stomach do a flip. She briefly wished she could use a Teleportation spell to escape her parents.

Her mother laughed. "Oh sweetie, I was just kidding. You should see the look on your face. I know you learned the facts at school."

Gwen heaved a sigh of relief and poured herself a glass of water with the pitcher on the coffee table.

"However, I would be remiss as a mother if I didn't tell you to be careful, now that you're a young woman. I come from a different generation, but, I think you young people should wait until marriage."

Gwen choked on her water at the mention of marriage, but managed to avoid spitting the water out.

Her mother patted her on the back. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," she said in a nervous voice reaching to sound casual, "I think I'm going to head to bed though. Love you guys!" After a quick hug with each of her parents she scurried upstairs to her room.

"Love you, too," her father said, laughing at her discomfort and hasty retreat.

"Sweet dreams!" her mother called out after her.

Once inside of her room she let out a sigh.

"'Wait for marriage' she says..." Gwen shook her head.

She took a pair of pajamas out of her dresser. They were white with a faded blue floral pattern, and her favorite pair. As she pulled on the short-sleeve top she reflected on her vacation so far. It had been nice. At school she had felt like she was growing away from her parents and her old life. Spending the last several weeks at home, she hadn't exactly reconnected with her family. There were too many secrets between them, as her parents were under the assumption that she was attending a boarding school and not a school for magic. But it felt like they had established a new connection. A sort of understanding that they loved each other, despite their now separate lives.

Gwen stretched out on her bed and stared out the window. Only 150 miles away, her husband might be starring at the same sky.

'_I wonder what he's thinking about right now?_' Gwen rolled up on her elbows. _'He's an enigma. Intelligent, passionate... and extraordinarily hard to get close to. His temper is fiery and quick, but he's also a gentleman at heart. And then there's his pride..._' Gwen finally rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling. '_January 26__th__... exactly a year and a day from when we were married... the last day we're required to stay married to complete our contract to protect me from the manus that nearly devoured my soul._'

That day was ingrained in her memory. Magical runes had littered the floor of the room in a blue glow where Hieronymous lay unconscious. A terrible, blue spirit above him. It had deceived her into thinking it meant to kill him. She had blindly jumped into the circle of magical runes, past the protective warding. It didn't take long for it to grab her by the throat and gloat at her naivety. Luckily Professor Potsdam had appeared at that moment and convinced it to spare her because she was "sworn" to become part of the family it protected... the house of Grabiner. And once an oath was sworn by a witch or wizard, nothing could undo it. The penalty was the same for exposing magic; all magic stripped and memories permanently removed.

'_January 26__th_...' she thought,_ 'On that day, what will he say to me?_'

On the last day of school, she had told him her feelings. He had actually kissed her, though not in a passionate way, and suggested they write to each other. But did he see her in a romantic light? Or, did he look at her and see a student with a crush. She hoped for the former.

She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but she found herself dreaming of Iris Academy. Her footsteps echoed in the dark halls, dimly lit by patches of moonlight. It was peaceful. As she breathed in the cold air, she let it fill her lungs with its chill. Then, suddenly, something was wrong. She knew it in her bones before she heard it. A noise. It was nearby. She walked down the dark hall and the noise became louder. It was someone screaming, muffled behind the door in front of her. Blue light spilled from beneath it. Her stomach felt sick with fear and she hesitated for a moment, as she reached for the handle. Bracing herself, she grasped for the door, but before her hand could touch the knob, the door swung open wildly on its own and inside... The screaming was suddenly amplified, the sound coursing throughout her body. Hieronymous was collapsed to his knees, screaming in pain, blue runes spinning beneath him. An all too familiar sinister laughter came from above. The manus floated there, larger than life, his booming, bass laughter deafening her.

"_GWEN!_"

She sat straight up in bed screaming, her clothes drenched in sweat. Hieronymous' voice was still ringing in her mind. As it echoed she could hear the panic. His voice... she hadn't dreamed his voice at all! She recognized the Far Speak spell.

She flung the covers off of herself and summoned all of her strength. She had never tried a spell this difficult before. She had no idea if it would even work... but she was running on pure fear-driven-adrenaline. The words left her mouth so fast she couldn't even comprehend them, but it still felt too slow. Her hands moved through the signs in a blur. She finished the incantation, accenting the last word as hard as she could, throwing all the force she could into the spell. Her eyes glowed softly blue in contrast to the black room, and then she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen landed painfully on the hardwood floor at high speed. Everything ached and she coughed hard, trying to refill the air that had been forced from her lungs. Temporarily blinded by blue light, she tried to make use of her other senses, but all she could hear was a ringing in her ears. As her senses cleared she could make out voices. She forced herself up into a crouched position. In front of her blue runes danced in quick circles under the manus and Hieronymous. The manus was saying something...

"...welcome to the Otherworld, son of Grabiner!"

Gwen blinked as her senses fully returned. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief. Hieronymous' body was flickering wildly, disappearing and reappearing at random intervals. Hieronymous stood clutching his shoulders hard, shaking. His teeth were clenched and his face was contorted in agony.

The manus shifted his gaze from Hieronymous to Gwen, and as he began to recognize her, his eyes widened in surprise. "You!" he said with a sinister grin, "You're that foolish girl from before." His laughter echoed throughout the room. "Come, cross the wards that bind me, save your husband, if you dare. This time his peril is no bluff, little girl!" he said in an attempt to taunt her.

Gwen knew first hand how foolish it would be to cross the wards, but she believed that the danger to Hieronymous was real this time, as the manus claimed. Once across the wards and within the circle, the manus could devour her soul. Technically, it should not be capable of harming a member of the House of Grabiner, but looking at Hieronymous, something had changed. Gwen desperately looked around the room for something she could use as a weapon and grabbed the only pointed object. Which happened to be an umbrella. As she held it between herself and the manus, she tried to imagine how she must look; a sixteen year old girl in her pajamas wielding an umbrella.

A wicked grin crossed the manus' face, revealing a row of white, sharp teeth, as he beckoned her to cross the wards.

Gwen muttered a chant and for a moment, glowed green, her muscles gaining definition. Then she ran into the circle, charging with the umbrella, screaming furiously.

The manus didn't even bother to dodge her, he just continued to gloat words she couldn't hear over her cry. At the very last second he saw a black glow and the flash of steel. He looked down to see an incensed Gwen holding a sword protruding from his left shoulder.

Gwen pulled the sword out and retreated back a step.

The manus' blood splashed across the floor and it roared in anger and pain. "You insolent little girl!" it screamed.

The manus lashed out with its claws and Gwen held up her sword in time to block a fatal blow. It's razor sharp talons tore the flesh on her left shoulder. But before the manus could strike a second blow she drove her sword deep into it's arm. Pushing with all of her borrowed might and heart pounding from adrenaline, she drove her sword deeper until the manus' arm lay beside her foot.

The manus roared in pain.

As Gwen readied herself for a killing blow, the manus' eyes widened in fear. With a vicious thrust she lunged toward its heart. In a bright flash, the manus vanished, leaving Gwen slashing at thin air.

The manus' voice whispered parting words in her mind, "Your husband's soul is _mine_. We'll meet again in Otherworld."

The runes had disappeared, along with their blue glow, leaving only moonlight in the room. To her horror, Hieronymous was still fading in and out. Not knowing what else to do, she dropped her now-umbrella to the ground and ran to him. In his agony he didn't seem to be aware of her presence. She desperately waited for him to appear solid, then grabbed hold of both his arms. Immediately something began pulling her. It felt like a nothingness, drawing her somewhere with him. Digging her heels in, she clasped him harder and tried to pull them both back from the hungry void, but she was losing him.

"Please!" she screamed at him, "Hieronymous, wake-up!" she felt her grasp slipping and her heart pounded in her throat as she imagined losing him forever, here and now, unable to do a damn thing about it.

"Please," she sobbed and hugged him tightly, his form so ghostly she could see through him.

His face twisted at last, and instead of agony, she could see the fire in his eyes alight with concentration. She felt the pull lessen as he helped her fight against it. Arms shaking, his eyes looking at another world, he forced his hands from his shoulders and embraced her with all his strength, tethering himself back to the real world. Gwen poured everything she had left into helping him push away from the darkness. She sensed Hieronymous doing the same, and she could feel his power dwarfing hers by comparison.

In a rush they were free from the current of magic that had been pushing against them. For a moment they both stood, gasping for air, holding one another for dear life. Hieronymous was dangerously pale, covered in sweat, and blood trailed down both of his arms where he had dug in with his nails. Gwen's shoulder bled from where the manus' claws had made contact, her left leg was throbbing painfully along with numerous other parts of her, presumably from her impromptu Teleportation across a vast distance. She had used blue, green, black, and white magic – had used more than she had to give - and she could feel it catching up with her.

For the moment, Gwen let relief wash over her and enjoyed his arms around her, contentedly listening to his breathes. "Hieronymous..." she whispered, saying his name with all the relief she felt that he was safe. And then her exhaustion caught up with her and she let herself fall into a deep and blissful sleep.

* * *

Warm sunlight burned at Gwen's eyes. She groaned and put her hand over her face, trying to block it out. She was still tired, and besides it was summer vacation, she could sleep in. She could vaguely recall dreaming about Hieronymous. Maybe if she fell back asleep she could continue her dream. But the sun was relentless so she decided to close her curtains. She sat up and then immediately lay back down as she was greeted by pain, nausea, and dizziness. She hissed at the pain to avoid yelling. It was then she noticed her sheets felt oddly different. They even smelled different, starchier, with no trace of flowery fabric softener. And something was off... the light, yes, the light was coming from the wrong direction.

Opening her eyes Gwen saw a room that was not her own. It felt familiar. There was a chair next to the bed with a figure in it. She looked up and saw Hieronymous asleep. Then it dawned on her; she was in _his_ room sleeping in _his_ bed.

Gwen wondered if she was dreaming. A throbbing in her left shoulder and leg thoroughly answered her question. She looked back at Hieronymous sleeping in his chair. He looked so peaceful and handsome. Even sleeping in such an awkward position, somehow he still managed to look refined. Seeing him there she longed to stroke his face, to kiss him lovingly on the cheek. To treat him the way a real wife treated a real husband.

Hieronymous blinked and groaned in what sounded like contempt aimed at the entire world.

'_I wonder if he always sounds that way when he wakes up?_' She smiled at the thought.

"Good morning," she said.

Hieronymous raised his eyebrows at the sound of her voice. "Ah, you are awake," he said with evident relief. Hieronymous rubbed his temples with one hand, trying to dispel away the final remnants of sleep. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel terrific," Gwen said sarcastically, "You know, aside from all of the pain."

Hieronymous leaned forward and placed an elbow on his knee while he moved his other hand in arcane gestures and muttered a Diagnosis spell.

"You were truly fortunate, there does not appear to be any permanent damage. Professor Potsdam will be able to affect a complete recovery. She should arrive before nightfall."

His voice was raspy and tired. He looked exhausted. Gwen noticed his thick, dark curls hanging loosely, in disorder. She had only seen him disheveled like this once before when he was sick. Back then she had brought him soup and had seen his quarters for the first time. It had looked very much the same as it did now, though she hadn't seen it for long before he had dismissed her. A large window diffused sunlight through white curtains. The bed was a four-poster with drapery matching the curtains. A clean desk sat beside the bed on one side and a nightstand on the other. The desk displayed a feathered quill ink pen beside an ink well. On the night stand sat a pile of thick books with colorful spines, all embroidered with long, golden titles. Beside the books was a curious looking wooden box.

"Last night..." Gwen began.

His mouth twisted into a sour expression.

Gwen could remember teleporting, fighting the manus, and seeing him nearly disappear before her eyes. _But_, she wondered, _what was the manus even doing here in the first place? _"Whathappened last night?"

A raspy growl escaped his lips. "Historic incompetence."

Gwen shot him a venomous look.

He raised an eyebrow in return. "Oh," he said in understanding, "I was not attributing that to you. ...I was referring to myself. _However_," he said giving her an austere look, "what you did last night was the grandest display of foolish bravado and heroism I have ever seen. You are astonishingly lucky that you did not perish."

Gwen looked down, hurt.

"Nonetheless... it was my errors in judgment that put you in the situation. You selflessly risked your life to save mine. I am grateful." He sighed and settled back in his arm chair. "I took a vow to protect you from harm. I will not be able to do that if you keep jumping into these kinds of situations."

"Likewise," she smiled.

Hieronymous smiled despite himself and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fair point," he replied. "But, you should know, you only defeated the manus out of surprise. They are not often attacked by young women in night attire wielding umbrellas," he said with a grin.

"You saw that?" Gwen asked, slightly embarrassed.

"I was vaguely aware of the events around me, enough to see a small blur in pajamas wielding an umbrella, attacking a _much_ larger, blue blur," his rich, low voice took on a mocking tone.

"Oh..." Her cheeks fully flushed. She wondered if he also remembered her embracing him, pleading and crying in a desperate attempt to save him. "Hieronymous... may I ask you something?"

"Hmm?" he impassively replied.

"What on Earth were you doing last night?" She honestly couldn't believe he had summoned the manus again. Professor Grabiner was infamous at Iris Academy for valuing safe magical practices above all else. Gwen knew on a more personal note that he was deeply motivated to terrify students into following safe practices to save them from making the same mistakes he and his former girlfriend, Violet, had once made. Those mistakes had cost Violet's shook her head. _It doesn't make sense..._

"I was performing an experiment. I inadvertently gave the manus power over myself. It tried to force me into the Otherworld. Resisting that force... was severing my soul from my body."

Gwen bit her lip and tried to imagine how that must have felt. "What went wrong? I thought he couldn't harm you..."

"The manus can neither kill me nor devour my soul. Somehow, I gave it power over me, and with that power, it placed me in..." he paused carefully selecting his words, "less than desirable circumstances."

Gwen's expression soured as she tried to imagine what the professor had done to give the manus power over him.

"As for you, it should not be able to come devour your soul. Our marriage still protects you. However, once you attacked it, you negated the part of its oath to not physically harm you."

"Can I assume you're done summoning the blasted thing, then?" Gwen said, slightly frustrated. Before Hieronymous could reply, she continued. "Why were you summoning it by yourself anyway? Last time, Professor Potsdam barely arrived in time to save me. What made you think that this time would be different?"

Hieronymous scowled, "I thought I had discovered where I went wrong the first time. But this time, something had changed. Something was different."

Gwen feeling slightly better, sat up and looked him in the eyes. "Well, I can't pretend to understand the inner workings of magic; in that regard I'm only your student. However, as your wife, and even just as a friend, what you were doing was very foolish," she shook her head at him, "Especially for you."

"It might have been foolish of me, but as your professor, I expect you to defer to my knowledge of magic. And as your husband, I expect you to respect me, rather than chiding me because you think you are right," he said tersely.

"I do respect you, but you could have died," she replied sharply, her piercing tone cutting through Hieronymous' defenses. "Being respected and keeping your pride are two different things."

With a frustrated sigh Hieronymous looked her directly in the eyes. "Very well. You are absolutely right. Satisfied?" he asked with feigned sincerity.

She took a breath and calmed down before continuing. "I didn't come here to argue with you," she said, irritated. "I'm only here because you called my name with the Farspeak Spell. You sounded like you needed help, and here I am. For the record, I was sleeping peacefully before you woke me up."

"Is that so?" he replied, passively.

Gwen rolled over in bed with a quiet "hmph", facing her back to him.

Hieronymous was silent for a long while. She wondered if he had fallen asleep, but was startled to hear him speak.

"...I did not feel like myself last night," he started, eyes starring fixed out of the window. "I am not particularly certain how I ended up calling for you."

Gwen shrugged, her back still turned to him, "You could have called anybody. Why me?"

"I do not know why it was you..." he said, choosing his words carefully, "but, I am glad that it was."

"Me too," Gwen said, smiling to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen awoke to the sound of birds singing cheerfully.

"Ugh," she grumbled. _Nothing_, she thought to herself, _should be so cheerful at this ungodly hour_.

She considered opening the window and greeting the jolly songbirds back with a burst of flames. Still feeling groggy, she looked around her small dorm room. Her room mates' beds were still made and unused. _Empty, _she thought. She hugged her blanket close and let out a weary sigh. She tried to recall the previous night. The headmaster had healed and teleported her to her dorm room and then went to see to Hieronymous' injuries. She wondered how he was feeling; he'd been very pale the last time she had seen him.

A knock at the door caused Gwen to jump in surprise.

"Good morning, my little hummingbird! May I come in?" Professor Potsdam called brightly.

"It's open," Gwen called back. She pushed her blanket away and rolled her legs out of bed. The hardwood floor felt cool under her bare feet.

Professor Petunia Potsdam entered the room with a flourish of her pink robes and diaphanous cuffs. Her multicolored wooden bracelets click-clacked in rhythm as her white, heeled boots hit the floor. Gwen guessed she was somewhere in her late 40s or early 50s, but it was hard to tell through her skillfully applied make-up. Her light red hair curled in the front and hung just below her shoulders. She looked more like a fashionable aunt to Gwen than the headmaster of a magic academy.

Petunia looked Gwen over with deep, emerald eyes.

"How are you feeling, poppet? Any problems with your leg?" she asked, resting her cheek in her hand. Besides being the headmaster, she was also a master of green magic, making her a talented healer. She taught the green, black, and white magic courses at school in addition to performing her duties as the headmaster.

Gwen put some weight on her left leg, cautiously testing for pain. "No, it feels fine now."

"Excellent," she twittered. "All in all, one fractured femur after a teleportation that far is extraordinary, especially for a first year student."

Gwen felt slightly sick, "Um, how many bones could a first year break that way...?"

"All of them," she smiled, still looking cheerful.

"Ah..." Gwen said lamely, eyes wide. Professor Potsdam's casual attitude to danger was always unnerving.

Her professor sighed wistfully, "Such a romantic, daring rescue. Have the seeds of love finally begun to blossom between the two of you?"

"Professor... Aren't you supposed to discourage this kind of thing between professors and students...?" Gwen had wondered this for awhile. The headmaster never seemed to waste an opportunity to encourage her and Hieronymous into a romantic relationship. Hieronymous had voiced suspicions to Gwen in the past that his father might be bribing her into playing match maker. Gwen, rather, suspected the headmaster was just a romantic at heart.

"Tsk. There are no rules against love of any kind on this campus. If my professors were chasing students as a rule, I would put a stop to it of course. But Hieronymous is hardly the type. Quite the contrary!"

Gwen shook her head. "How are my parents?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Professor Potsdam frowned. "Well, I made them think you needed to return to school abruptly. They're drawing their own conclusions as to what that implies... I'm sorry, but you'll have to remain here for at least a day or two while we sort this all out."

Gwen placed her forehead in her hand. Things had been improving at home, but this would be a set-back. White magic was more of an art than a science. It could cause parents to forget that their son or daughter was at a magic academy. However, it sometimes resulted in causing parents to forget about their children entirely or assume the wrong things about their absence. For some students it came down to a choice: keep their magic powers and stay in the world of magic, or return to a normal life with their family, lose their magic... and lose their memories.

"How is Professor Grabiner?" Gwen asked, changing the subject.

"He's a bit weak yet, but he'll make a full recovery. And please, you don't have to call him 'Professor' in front of me," she chirped.

"Uh, I'd rather not push my luck," Gwen said, imagining the glare she might get from Hieronymous if she used his first name casually with, what she assumed qualified as, his boss.

"Well, suit yourself, crumpet. Come along, let's get some breakfast," she said, then looked Gwen up and down. "Oh dear, you can't come to breakfast in your pajamas. All of your clothes are at home, too, hmm..." she circled Gwen for a moment.

Gwen, feeling self conscious, wriggled her toes, but did her best to hold still. After a moment she felt a wave of black magic and her pajamas transformed into a sun dress of the same cream colored material and blue flower pattern.

"There we are," the professor beamed.

Gwen smiled, feeling refreshed. The dress fit like a glove. "Aren't you supposed to say bibbity-bobbity-boo when you do that spell?"

"That only applies to fairy godmothers," she said with a wink.

Gwen laughed, then wondered if she was serious. She did go to school with a fairy after all. After some digging under her bed, she found a pair of sandals she'd left behind due to a lack of room in her suitcase.

* * *

Professor Potsdam and Gwen joined Hieronymous in the banquet hall. He was just finishing a piece of toast as they sat down. His pallor was gone, replaced by his usual complexion. Gwen helped herself to some buttered toast and strawberries. They exchanged pleasantries, then the three of them sat in uncomfortable silence.

After taking a few bites of her breakfast, Gwen looked across the table, trying to guess Hieronymous' thoughts. "I've been listening to the Four Seasons at home. It's beautiful," she said, breaking the silence.

Hieronymous steepled his fingers together and rested his chin on his knuckles. "What makes it beautiful?" he asked.

Gwen was surprised by the question. She had been aiming for casual chit-chat. After sitting for a long moment in concentration, she finally answered passionately, "The music steals you, transposing all thought to a state of euphoria. And then it tricks you," she said, wistfully, "evoking absolute sorrow. Finally, transforming you to absolute catharsis."

A dead silence fell at the table.

Gwen's cheeks burned and she wondered if her impromptu monologue had sounded poetic or sappy. She squared her shoulders and returned his stare with a smile; she'd given an honest answer and it was too late to take it back now.

Gwen saw a look she had never seen from Hieronymous before. He appeared stunned.

"Uh... I, uh..." he said, his defenses momentarily penetrated.

Professor Potsdam smiled wickedly, "Come now Hieronymous, is that all you have to say? Surely you can muster more than that."

Hieronymous attempted to regain his composure. "Well, um, yes..." he sputtered a bit. He gathered himself continuing, "I've never heard it described quite like that before..."

"I've never heard _anyone,"_ Professor Potsdam interjected, "talk that way about anything!" she said trying to illicit more from him.

Hieronymous shot Professor Potsdam a venomous look and cleared his throat. "Forgive me for being out of touch, how do you listen to the music? Do you use a phonograph, or one of those new record players?"

Gwen gaped a little. She knew the magic world was out of touch with technology, but she hadn't realized to what extent. "Um, actually technology has progressed a little further than that. I have an MP3 player I use at home. They're devices that store information digitally and can be accessed at will."

"Makes it sound like magic, doesn't it?" Professor Potsdam commented. "Well," she interjected, "I'll leave you two to discuss the finer points of classical music. Please excuse me."

Professor Potsdam left the table and the banquet hall.

Hieronymous shook his head, tossing his thick curls of hair and muttered, "Meddlesome woman..."

Gwen smirked at him, but her stomach sank as she thought again about her parents. Would they be disappointed in her for unexplained reasons? Or would they look at her in confusion, as if they couldn't quite remember who she was and why she was there?

She shivered, imagining a cold, dead-eyed stare from her own parents.

"Are you not feeling well?" he said, giving her an inquisitive glance.

"I guess I'm not eager to get home."

"Still having troubles at home?" he asked with a frown.

"Things have been much better at home, actually. But..." she didn't want to finish the sentence.

"Disappearing to come to my aid, may have changed things for the worse," he supplied, his usual scowl present.

Gwen tried to speak positively, "Professor Potsdam thinks it might be alright. Maybe I can tell them I had to come back to school because I just really, _really_ missed my..." she thought for a moment, "lucky umbrella."

Hieronymous snorted, but she suspected he was stifling a chuckle.

She smiled at him but then felt her blood run cold. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she felt the familiar tingle of blue magic. Someone was scrying her. She looked to Hieronymous, her face full of discomfort.

Gwen didn't need to explain what was wrong, from her professor's stiffened expression she gathered he could sense exactly what was transpiring.

The fires of rage lit in Hieronymous' eyes. He quickly made several gestures and recited an incantation she couldn't recognize. His eyes glimmered red and white and a wave of heat emanated from him. He frowned at nothing as the magic dissipated.

Gwen blinked as the air around them cooled back to room temperature. "What was that spell?"

"A counter-spell. It attacks the mind with red magic," he said still frowning.

"So, you just attacked someone's mind with _fire_?" she said, impressed.

"No, regrettably, I only tried. They broke the connection."

Gwen frowned, "This happened yesterday, too. I should have mentioned it before, but I forgot with everything else going on."

"You..." he began, then stopped. "...had a lot on your mind."

Gwen blinked. _Hieronymous being nice_, she thought. _Huh..._

"Whomever it was will think twice before trying it again," he said with a sinister smile.

Gwen relaxed a little. Her peeping tom was probably scared out of his or her wits. Her feeling of safety was cut short as she reflected that a peeping tom might be exactly what had an eye on her.

"Isn't the school supposed to have wards? Tough ones, I thought?"

"Indeed. Whoever that was, just brushed them aside."

A small squeak escaped her throat and she looked at him incredulously. "People can do that?"

"Not many. They have to be masterfully good at blue magic."

"How many people are that good?"

He scoffed at her question, "It isn't something one advertises. Presumably there are few of us in number."

"'Us'?"

"Were you under the impression I was hired to teach blue magic for my charming personality?" he said with a roguish smile.

Gwen couldn't help but chuckle.

"I must take my leave and discuss this development with Petunia," he said. He nodded his head at her and departed the hall.

Gwen watched him leave. Finding herself alone in the oppressively large banquet hall, she finished off her breakfast quickly and left. She settled on passing the afternoon in the library. Grabbing a stack of books from the blue magic section, she set out to improve her understanding of teleportation magic. Focusing heavily on safety.


	4. Chapter 4

The morning had turned swiftly into afternoon and the afternoon into evening, before Gwen looked up from her stack of books. She had learned a decent amount. Teleportation magic could be combined with black magic to enchant an item. This allowed the user to cast a teleportation spell from the enchanted item instead of through their own efforts. The items had to be used by someone capable of casting a teleportation spell to begin with and would have to be recharged after one use.

Lengthy shadows fell across the floor from the bookshelves as she began to nod off over her copy of _Down the Rabbit Hole; A Cautionary Tale of Teleportation_. As she leaned back in her chair stretching, she felt something amiss. Glancing around the room her gaze fell on the bookcase to the left and her heart skipped a beat. Within the shadow of the bookcase was a wispy figure of ebony leaning casually, arms folded.

"H-hello?" she asked, trying not to sound afraid.

The masculine figure shifted his balance away from the bookcase. He turned and walked toward her. She held her breath when he stepped out of the shadow, because the light did not illuminate his figure. He remained a dark form of smoke and shadow, fluctuating slightly in the light. Gwen noticed the way he moved was rather odd. He had a disconcertingly solemn gait, as though every step had a purpose. She attempted to stand up from her chair discretely, not wanting to do anything to startle the mysterious man.

The figure placed both of his hands on the table and leaned forward to look at her.

"You are... Gwen Grabiner," it said with satisfaction, its voice deep and guttural sounded distorted as if it came from far away.

Gwen didn't wait to see what it had in mind to say or do next. At top speed she dashed out of the library. As she rounded the corner into the corridor she collided into someone and screamed in surprise. He caught her firmly by the arm, keeping her from falling backward. She looked up and saw Hieronymous looking at her, startled.

Taking her by the shoulders he steadied her on her feet then, without a word, strode into the library. He glared around the room, making various runic gestures.

"I sense nothing here. Please do _not_ tell me you only saw a spider."

"There was a man, wrapped in shadows. He was right there," she pointed at the end of the table where she had been reading.

They both stared around the room for another minute.

"Are you absolutely sure the school has wards? And we're not part of some control group that gets the placebo?" she asked fervently.

"The school's wards are strong and functioning perfectly. I checked them today myself."

"So far all of my experiences have been to the contrary," she snapped. She hugged herself tightly but couldn't help but shake from head to toe. She shut her eyes and tried to reign in her anxiety. "He knew who I was. He's probably the one that's been scrying on me, only now he's stalking me in the shadows."

To her surprise she felt a warm arm gingerly around her shoulder.

Hieronymous lead her out of the library. In the hallway, his arms encompassed her in a warm embrace. He gently smoothed her hair and placed her face against his chest.

"Nothing will harm you," he said reassuringly and stroked her back.

She felt safe.

Gwen inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, beginning to relax.

Her encounter in the library was already fading into a distant memory. All she could think about was Hieronymous' proximity. She wrapped her arms around him, her heart pounding. Then she felt a fingertip under her chin, urging her to look up. Her heart soared as she remembered him doing the same when they had shared their first kiss. To her disappointment he only met her gaze.

"Come with me," he said. He took her hand and lead her through the corridor.

Curious, she let him lead her through Iris Academy. She noticed the late afternoon sun shining in the windows, very close to giving way to dusk. Finally, he stopped in front of the school's auditorium. She had been there twice during the school year; once to see a play and another time to see a choir performance. He opened the door and summoned an orb of light to his hand. Gwen could barely make out the silhouette of empty chairs in the dark. She rubbed her arms as they walked, her sun dress feeling like the wrong attire for the cool air. He stopped abruptly near the center of the middle aisle, his eyes settling on a pair of seats.

Hieronymous took a seat, and Gwen followed suit, sitting next to him.

With a flick of his wrist, the orb of light floated up to levitate above them. The magic light bobbed and flickered, casting a milky white glow.

Hieronymous leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath and let out a content sigh. "Auditoriums have always been a source of tranquility to me."

Gwen could relate to his sentiment, drinking in the peaceful atmosphere.

"When I was younger, I would sneak into auditoriums on occasion, after hours" he admitted, conspiratorially. His voice reverberated slightly in the empty space.

Gwen blinked. "Breaking and entering? _You_?"

He chuckled in a low voice. "I teleported, so it was more entering than breaking. I was probably your age at the time. I would lie on the stage and listen to the silence. I found it to be deeply calming. As if one can sense all of the energy that coursed through the hall. It was a welcome escape," he said with a nostalgic look. "Back then I enjoyed finding creative ways of getting into trouble. I was never caught or expelled. Except when I was trying to anger my father."

Gwen remembered handing him a letter from his father and watching him incinerate it casually.

"The two of you don't get on well, I've noticed."

"You could say that," his tone suggested that this was a grand understatement. "I had top marks at school. I worked very hard at it, so it would make him even more angry when I dropped out of school."

"You hated him so much you were going to drop out?"

"Yes. I still do, mind you. Fortunately I met someone who changed my mind about leaving school. They inspired me to be a teacher. Around that time I stopped caring about spiting my father and tried to forget him entirely."

Gwen processed all of this. _Someone who inspired him..._she wondered if he was talking about his late girlfriend, Violet.

"So... it's karma that you have to host detention?"

"Not at all," he said defiantly, "I was never caught, thus I was never in detention."

She smiled at how proud he was of his misconduct. "Well, your secret is safe with me. I won't tell the other students."

"Good. I would hate to have to lock you in the dungeons after all." He had threatened her with the possibility during school in an extreme circumstance, but had explained later that it had been an empty threat.

"Why do you hate your father so much?"

He folded his arms and set his jaw.

She winced, "I'm sorry, that was too forward. You don't have to answer that."

"My father is a politician, a perfectionist, and as prideful as... well, as prideful as myself. With that sort of combination, it's not a wonder things turned out the way they did."

Gwen nodded, listening raptly.

"My father's image was key to his political career. And his perfectionism combined with that made his expectations unreachable. Nothing was ever enough. He drove my mother away. They divorced when I was a child. I never saw her again. I think I reminded her too much of him. But that's in the past. My father, in the meantime, hired retainers to raise me."

He gave her a hard look, "You can put away the doey-eyed look of sympathy. I have no regrets. I was over joyed with the retainers he hired. I was only miserable when he came home."

Gwen rearranged her face to look neutrally interested and nodded twice more for him to continue.

"Violet tried to bridge the gap between us."

Gwen looked down at the mention of Violet. She couldn't keep her face neutral. All at once she felt profoundly sad for his loss. But in her heart she also felt jealous as she imagined a young, happy Hieronymous, before he became bitter from losing her. Violet had seen that man that she might never know. And she hated herself for being jealous of a woman who was tragically killed.

"We tolerated each other then. But, after her death... many words came between us. We came to blows. Finally I told him I never wanted to have any contact with him ever again. I became a professor and devoted my life to educating and terrifying students. And abruptly, I got married."

Gwen looked into his eyes and smiled.

"Getting married really wasn't part of your plan, huh? I'm sorry you got forced into this against your will."

"I can imagine worse fates than being married to you," he said with a heartfelt voice.

Gwen was overwhelmed.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Hm?" he replied.

"The way you're acting... It's just, you've been so _nice_ today. And, well, social. Are you dying?" she asked, brow wrinkled.

He chuckled. "No, I am not dying. Is it so beyond belief that I can be pleasant for a day?"

She coughed politely and scratched the back of her head, trying to think how to answer that question.

This time he laughed. "Never mind. The reason I brought you here was to thank you properly for helping me last night."

Waving his hand, the light disappeared, replaced by a shimmering surface. Slowly the images in the window began to take form.

"Scrying on other people for the purposes of spying or peeping, as someone has been doing to you, is considered beyond crass in magic society. However, there are socially acceptable uses for scrying."

Within the window she saw a beautiful auditorium come into view. She could see a stage brightly lit with black, empty chairs arranged in a half circle upon it. Before the stage she could see and hear an audience chatting in a dull roar. All around were ivory walls adorned with beautiful golden scroll work.

"Where is that?" she asked quietly, even though she was sure no one could hear her on the other side of the window.

"Carnegie Hall, in Manhattan, New York. Tonight, the New York Philharmonic is playing."

Gwen sat up, excited. "This is amazing."

"Not really," he said casually.

She frowned at him.

"I only wanted to educate you on scrying," he waved his hand and the scrying window disappeared, leaving them in darkness.

She was momentarily disappointed, then heard him reciting a lengthy and complicated spell.

The hall was suddenly flooded with life. The lights of Carnegie Hall shown brightly on them. Around her everywhere were people dressed in expensive clothing. She could see the conductor's podium, hear the footsteps of the performers behind the stage doors, and feel the worn fabric on the arm of her chair.

Her jaw dropped, she looked at Hieronymous. "Is this an illusion?"

He was smiling with pride. "For a skilled blue magician, reality is fluid. All things can be changed," he said, repeating what he had said on the first day of class.

She tried to find her voice for a minute. "I guess they really didn't hire you for your charming personality," she said with a laugh and awe in her voice.

The house lights dimmed, signaling the audience to take their seats. The woman seated next to Gwen looked in her direction, but her gaze went through her, not really seeing her.

The symphony members trickled out from the stage doors, filing in and taking their seats on stage. Some of them played passages from various parts of the music, while others played scales, or tuned their instruments. Gwen enjoyed the beautiful din. If it weren't for the other audience members gazing through them, she'd have had no indication they were in some kind of illusion.

Finally the conductor emerged and took a bow to thunderous applause. Taking his place at the podium, he gracefully raised his baton. Gwen felt like there was real magic in that moment. The energy in the room was electric, waiting for the first notes to fall. With a deft motion, the conductor was off, leading the philharmonic in a lively piece of music.

Hours passed. Gwen felt entranced by the music. A few times she looked at Hieronymous. If it took any effort at all for him to keep the illusion going, he wasn't showing it. He looked equally enthralled. There was a brief intermission when Gwen expressed her excitement at seeing her first concert and Hieronymous asked how it compared to an MP3 player.

The final pieces were deeply moving. Some moments were filled with despair, but in the end, the powerful melody returned, transforming the sad melody into rich harmony. The music ended and the crowd stood and applauded passionately. Gwen couldn't help but get swept up in their enthusiasm and joined in. The stage slowly emptied after the conductor had taken his bows. Once the audience began to file out, the illusion slowly disappeared and Hieronymous recast a light spell to illuminate the empty school auditorium. Gwen was startled by the stark difference. The illusion had been incredible.

Hieronymous stood next to her. He stared into her eyes and let out a sigh. It sounded sad to her. He stood so still she began to feel perplexed. A movement next to her made her jump. A figure wrapped in shadow was standing next to her, behind her chair. Hieronymous remained unmoving, and she could see the light was unnaturally still, not wavering in the slightest. Time, she realized, was frozen.

She gazed upon the figure, swallowing her fear hard. His details were shrouded, but she could make out old style clothing, some leather around his forearms and hands, and a hood covering his face. He was the shadow from the library.

He spoke in a low voice, "Don't make any foolish promises."

The light flickered and she looked up, then back to the figure, but he had vanished. Time was moving once more.

Hieronymous was still staring at her. "Promise you won't put yourself in danger," he said, apparently unaware of what had just transpired.

"What was that?" Gwen asked, looking around.

"This is serious, Gwen," Hieronymous replied.

The stranger's warning echoed in her mind. "...that's not a promise anyone can make, Hieronymous."

His face looked strained. "Promise me you won't come after me."

Gwen's brow creased, "What's going on with you? You've been acting strange all day."

"Just promise me."

The light went absolutely still again. The familiar stranger was at her side once more.

"You can save him," he whispered from behind her.

Time resumed and she looked into Hieronymous' eyes with resolve. "I'm sorry, I just can't promi-"

Hieronymous interrupted her, covering her mouth in a kiss. He wound one arm around her waist, and the other entwined in her hair behind her head, deepening the kiss. Gwen blinked in surprise, but closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his back, returning the kiss. Her first real kiss. It was nothing like the kiss he had given her at the end of school, which had been more like a greeting. This was deep and passionate, and made her feel light as air.

"Wow..." she breathed as he let her go. "What's all this for? Normally... you're not so..." she trailed off, not sure how to express everything.

He gave her a smile she had never seen and took her hand. "If it was your last night on Earth, how would you spend it?" he replied.

A terrible strain appeared on his face and he winced slightly as his body began to fade.

"No!" Gwen screamed. She felt his hand losing substance and tried to pull him back like she had the night before, but the effort was futile.

For the third time the world stood still. Hieronymous was barely visible now, looking at her sadly in a frozen expression.

She whirled around to face the man she knew would be there.

"Why?!" she screamed in rage at the stranger.

The shadow disappeared. She heard him speak from beside her. She turned around to see him standing next to Hieronymous.

"The manus this man summoned last night created a tether to him. He knew there was no escape from it, so he spent today placing his affairs in order. I've been watching the both of you."

"Are you doing this?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"No. I am a friend. There is more going on than either of you realize. For instance," he said uncrossing his arms, "did you know the manus he summoned last night, is not the manus sworn to protect his family? That manus cannot harm either of you. As long as you don't attack it like you did the one you met last night. Which I'm sure sounds very tempting right now."

"Who are you? What is your role in all of this?"

"As I said, I am a friend. I work from within the shadows. Do not tell a soul that you saw me this day, and I will return to you later."

He vanished and time resumed.

Gwen watched in agony as Hieronymous vanished and she was left standing alone in the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

The globe of light Hieronymous had cast dimmed and vanished, leaving the auditorium pitch black. Alone and despairing, Gwen sank to her knees, balling her hands into fists and squeezing her eyes shut. With a shriek, she pounded her fists through the darkness into the chairs and against the floor. Exhausted she gave into sobbing through stuttered breaths.

A deep voice began chanting a spell. _Illumination_, thought Gwen. As light spilled across the room, a regal figure came into view. He was tall, slender, and held himself with a countenance of control and confidence. The man was dressed in elegant black robes embroidered with gold. His short black hair was combed back sharply from the crown of his head and cropped at the bottom of his neck with streaks of white at his temples. His wore a neatly trimmed, fully bearded-goatee giving him the refined appearance of a gentleman. The stranger's dark, intelligent eyes fell to Gwen.

"I'm too late," he said slowly, closing his eyes. Gwen sensed white magic dance around him as he softly whispered the Spirit Echoes spell, revealing ghostly images enacting past events for the eyes of the caster.

Gwen sat perfectly still, quelling her temper tantrum. She looked the stranger over with suspicion, preparing a teleportation spell.

His eyes snapped open and he gracefully fell to one knee at her side.

"Please," he said sincerely, "I cannot bear the sight of a young lady in tears." He gently handed her a white handkerchief from his chest pocket.

Gwen accepted the soft cloth from him and wiped away her tears.

"There, there," he murmured quietly.

His kind voice and gentle words soothed her. After her crying had subsided, and she regained her composure, she returned the stranger's handkerchief.

"Thank you," she said meekly, her voice still hoarse from her earlier choked sobs.

"Now, that's more like it. Tears do not suit you at all, my dear. Here, please allow me to help you up."

Gwen offered her hands, but he gingerly took her by the elbows and lifted her up. Looking down, she realized why he had avoided her hands; they were a colorful assortment of bruises.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm sorry we are meeting each other for the first time under such regrettable circumstances," he said, extending his hand. "I am Aloysius. Aloysius Grabiner."

Gwen blinked and then quickly put her hand over her mouth as she realized her jaw had dropped open in surprise.

Her father-in law reached forward and took each of her hands in turn, casting a healing spell.

"It's not safe to talk here," he said earnestly. "With your permission, I'd like to escort you to someplace more secure."

Before she could reply, Aloysius placed his hand on her shoulder and they vanished.

* * *

Hieronymous struggled to open his eyes. His efforts were met with a glaring light. He reached out with his other senses, trying to fully wake up. He could smell something damp and feel a chill in the air. The sound of men chanting came from far away. Blinking, he tried to focus. Gradually, the reflection of dancing blue runes came into view. There was a puddle in front of him, on a worn stone floor. He realized he was lying on his right side on cold, wet, flagstones. As he glanced around the room, his vision slowly came into focus. He recognized ancient architecture from one of the many obscure books he had read. As he recalled its content, the haziness in his mind fell away. Fully cognizant he squinted and surmised it was likely Pre-Renaissance.

_Abandoned,_ he assumed from the drops of water falling in the puddle before him. _Secluded, too_, he added, considering the age of the building. Then the magic in the air finally hit him. His eyes widened, as he took in the shock. He wasn't in his own dimension. He was in the Otherworld.

The sound of bare feet slapping against rock attracted his attention, craning his head back he saw an archway leading to a hall. Short, hairy, green skinned creatures with sharp and vicious looking incisors, stalked past the room. One of the wicked creatures sniffed the air and turned its yellow, baleful eyes to him. Snorting through it's long, hooked nose, it turned and walked away with the rest of the group.

_Goblins_, he thought with disgust. _ Paying me no attention other than a casual glance in my direction._

He was too weak to teleport back to his own dimension, and no match for the denizens of this neglected building.

___The goblins, and whatever other creatures might be dwelling here, must be working with my captors. Otherwise they'd have made a meal of me by now._

His eyes finally adjusted to the light and he began to take in his full surroundings. As he looked back to the center of the room, he observed four figures beside the glowing runes. Two were blue genie-like demons; manuses, practically identical. The third was a hooded man and the fourth was an older gentleman. He looked vaguely familiar to Hieronymous. Recognition dawned and he scowled at his human abductor.

Summoning the last of his willpower, he reached out to the magic pulsing around him. Managing to tame a small amount of it, he began quietly chanting. While maintaining focus on the lengthy spell, he could hear the two men conversing casually.

"Something will have to be done about Aloysius. He just isn't getting the message," he said to the hooded figure, his annoyance written clearly on his face.

"Shall I take care of it?" asked the hooded figure. Hieronymous thought he sounded like an overly-eager lackey, trying to impress his master.

"Do whatever needs to be done," he looked thoughtful and added, "but if he resists, have them rough-up the girl. Eventually he'll get the idea."

"Yes, Alcinous," said the lackey zealously. With a deep bow, he disappeared.

As Alcinous walked towards Hieronymous he could see clearly for the first time his shoulder length white hair and light blue eyes. His pale complexion matched his sleek, white robes.

Hieronymous gathered the last of his strength to finish the Far Speak Location spell, hoping he had enough willpower left to send it across dimensions.

"Father, help me," he whispered, but even as the words left his mouth, he could feel his consciousness slipping away before he could finish the spell.

Alcinous stood above the unconscious Hieronymous and gloated, "Nice try, but he'll never find you."

* * *

Gwen and Aloysius appeared in a large entry room. Gwen had only seen rooms of such extravagance in magazines and television.

"We'll sort all of this out. Please, come in and make yourself at home," Aloysius said.

"I must make some important calls," he pointed down a hallway to a study. "If you have need of me, I will be there. I think you will be most comfortable here in the great room for now, but feel free to explore the house."

He set off down the hall in a hurry, leaving Gwen alone.

She shook her head. Everything was happening too fast. It felt like an eternity since she had seen her bedroom. Now here she was, standing in the vast mansion owned by her father-in-law.

She sat down in a leather armchair in the great room, close enough to listen down the hall. The room was filled with antiques. Everything about it screamed expensive, from marble busts to tapestries to exotic rugs. The house was lit with magic flame as was common in wizard establishments.

Gwen wasn't sure what she had expected her father-in-law's life to be like. She had known Aloysius was in politics and came from a very old family. Hieronymous on the other hand lived very modestly. Aloysius couldn't be further from the modest life.

A loud thud snapped her out of her reverie. Aloysius had pounded his fist on his desk. His face was flushed red and she could see where Hieronymous got his scathing look from. She looked but she couldn't see a phone. _Well of course he isn't on a phone,_ she wondered at herself, _wizards don't have to pay for phones. They can just call each other mentally if the other party is willing. _She sighed. _So much for listening in on the conversation._

With nothing else to do, she wandered the house. Under normal circumstances she would have happily explored the rooms, but, she couldn't relax. She needed to find out what was going on before she went crazy.

Gwen wandered aimlessly into the kitchen. She looked around the the room and spied a glass jar with coins in it. On closer examination the coins were gold colored with the words "ONE POUND" printed on them. Blinking, Gwen absorbed this. Aloysius had the same English accent as Hieronymous. She remembered asking Hieronymous what it was like to live in England, to which he had unenthusiastically replied "It rains frequently."

Sure enough, she looked out the window and noticed it was actually raining.

Poking around the cupboard she found an assortment of tea bags. She had never used a wizard's kitchen before, but hoped the principles were generally the same. After some fiddling with the stove, she figured out how to light a fire and put a kettle on.

Aloysius stared out the window of his study intently, his index fingers pressed to his lips.

The sound of china on his desk roused him from his contemplation.

Gwen seated herself across from him in an overstuffed leather armchair.

"I thought you could use some tea," she offered.

"You assume because I'm English, I can't survive without tea?"

Gwen blushed, she had come to that exact assumption when she had realized Aloysius was English.

"You are completely correct of course. Two lumps please," he said, raising his teacup.

She smiled with relief and poured his cup.

"How are you holding up?" she asked directly.

"Oh, fine. A lifetime in politics teaches one to keep putting one foot in front of the next."

Gwen couldn't decide if he was putting a show of confidence on for her benefit or not. She couldn't imagine being "fine" in the face of her own son being abducted.

"Can you please catch me up?" she asked, slightly pleading.

Sipping his tea, he sighed a little. "Unfortunately I don't know very much. Hieronymous was abducted by my political rival, Alcinous Alden. I've contacted the best white mages on the council discretely. They can't locate him. Wherever he is, he's beyond magic. Alcinous intends to blackmail me to some end. He hasn't stated what that is, yet."

The situation sounded remarkably hopeless to her from his description.

"What can we do?" she asked, frowning.

"For now, the best thing we can do is take our minds off of the situation until we have more information. Worrying will get us nowhere."

Gwen didn't like it, but it made a certain amount of sense.

"Alright," she agreed.

"If you don't mind, I would like to take this opportunity to get to know the young woman who stole my son's heart," he said, his voice deeply impressed.

Gwen nearly choked on her tea.

Setting her cup down, she replied, "I don't know how much you've heard, but, it isn't quite like that."

"Oh?" he asked.

Gwen didn't know Aloysius well enough to be sure, but she suspected he was feigning ignorance out of curiosity.

"Our marriage wasn't a happy occasion. In fact, I don't think I've seen anyone more vexed in my life. I'm going to assume you know about the circumstance of your family's manus threatening to eat my soul?"

"You've got me. I do know about some of the details."

"So you know we're not a real couple then."

"Now, I sincerely doubt that," he said knowingly.

"I don't mean to burst your bubble, but, honestly, he's going to divorce me in January. He's probably planned a celebration for it and everything."

"Gwen... I don't mean to be indiscreet, but to be perfectly honest, I saw everything which happened tonight in the Spirit Echoes spell," he said delicately, taking a sip of his tea.

Gwen blinked. Her eyes went wide as she recalled the first real kiss they had shared. And her father-in-law had seen it. She wished very hard she could turn invisible. For the time being, she settled with hiding her face in both hands and groaning.

Aloysius smirked. "Now, now, we've all been young once. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"H-hey, we're not doing that kind of thing all the... oh, it was our first kiss for crying out loud. It was one kiss, and he said..." her voice grew distant, "that it was his last night on Earth. Anyone would want to kiss someone in that situation."

"We've come back to the topic we're trying to avoid. But if I may say one thing, a small piece of parental insight, for what it's worth. After what happened with Violet," he paused, looking directly at her, setting down his cup, "seeing him open up to another young woman, is no small feat. And I know my son... he wouldn't kiss just anyone. So, don't give up on him yet," he said with a gentle smile. Although Gwen felt Aloysius was trying to put on a strong show, she couldn't help but notice the single tear sliding down his cheek.

In a desperate effort to change the subject, Gwen said, "You know, someone's been scrying on me lately. Maybe it was this Alcinous person."

"No," Aloysius shook his head, "it wasn't Alcinous. It was me."

"You?" Gwen asked, "What for?"

"Well, I don't hear much from Hieronymous about his life and I wanted..."

Aloysius stared out the window intently for a moment, distracted.

"I must stop myself there for now. We have intruders."

At that moment Gwen heard footsteps in the hallway.

"How many are there_..._?_" _she asked aloud.

"Not enough," Aloysius replied coolly.

A team of men dressed in black poured into the room, guns aimed in their direction. A hooded figure strode in after them.

"We have some matters of importance to discuss, Viscount Montague."

"Yes, we do," Aloysius replied, fire burning in his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Gwen held her breath, looking at three different pistols pointed in her direction, and another four aimed at Aloysius. The hooded figure stood in the doorway with his arms folded.

Aloysius relaxed back in his chair with a smile and crossed one of his legs.

"Welcome to my home," he said congenially. "May I offer you some tea?" he swept his arm toward the kettle.

Gwen saw a confused frown spread across the man's face.

"Do you think this is a joke?" he growled at Aloysius.

"Well," he laughed, "You have to admit, it is rather funny."

This time Gwen and the angry man both gaped at him. Gwen wondered if he had gone mental.

"You brought _guns_. I mean really," he laughed a little more and wiped away a small tear. "It's just precious," he said, as if he were complementing a two-year-old's macaroni drawing.

Aloysius flicked his wrist and seven guns fell to the floor, their owners clutching their scorched hands. One pistol discharged, but bounced off of an invisible shield an inch from Aloysius' face and lodged itself in the wall beside him. He didn't so much as blink.

Glowering at the hired security team and his eyes aglow with white magic, he said "Leave," in a commanding voice. The men fled from Aloysius' presence with haste, tripping over one another. Gwen heard them wrench open the front door and race out of the mansion.

Aloysius leaned back in his chair and placed his index fingers back to his lips, looking up at the stunned hooded man.

"Please, do continue," Aloysius said evenly. "I believe you were about to threaten me. Although, I must say, you seem rather green at this."

The man looked incensed. His hands were balled into fists and his jaw clenched.

Aloysius reached his hand forward, and the hooded figure flinched, but Aloysius merely took his cup and sipped his tea. The action had felt like the threat of a spell; changing the man from angry to cowering.

"You wouldn't kill me," said the man, puffing himself up haughtily, "you don't want anything to happen to your son."

Aloysius made a chuckling sound.

"You have that backwards. Abducting my son was a very poor life decision."

Gwen marveled at how quickly Aloysius could switch from jovial to wholly frightening.

"Don't do anything foolish, Viscount."

"Hand over my son," he said, his black eyes cold and terrifying, "and I won't."

With a scowl and a quick chant, the man vanished.

"Is it wise to antagonize them like that? They might hurt Hieronymous."

"If I cooperate with them, my dear, they will certainly end my son. The more they believe they need the leverage, the safer he is, I assure you."

Gwen reached down and scooped up a 9mm pistol. She snapped the safety on.

"I'll clean this up for you," she said, clicking on the safeties of each gun.

"Thank you, wizards find guns base things," he yawned. "Allow me to show you the way to the room you'll be staying in."

Aloysius made his way down the hall and lead them to a grand wooden staircase. After ascending the stairs to the first landing, they came to a hall with four doors. He walked to the closest door and had just placed his hand on the knob when he was startled by a voice in his mind.

_"Father, help me." _

Aloysius' eyes widened in surprise.

_"Gwen, help me."_

Gwen jumped.

"I heard him, just now," she said, looking up at Aloysius.

"As did I," replied Aloysius, looking curious.

"I feel... drawn somewhere," she said, unsure how to describe the sensation.

"It's part of the Far Speak Location spell. It draws the target in the direction of the caster."

"So, what do we do now?" Gwen asked, wide awake.

"'We' aren't going to do anything. I am going to gather a group of witches and wizards from the council. You, are going to get some sleep. Young witches have no business venturing into the Otherworld," he opened the door to the guest room and waited for her to step inside.

Gwen frowned at him.

"Don't worry, we'll get him back," he said, reassuring.

"Alright," she said reluctantly.

She walked into the dark guest room and closed the door behind her. Aloysius' footsteps echoed down the hall as he walked away.

As Gwen crawled into the neatly made bed, she couldn't ignore the tiny pull of the location spell. Or forget the sound of his voice in her mind. She stared at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation, knowing falling asleep was impossible.

* * *

Hieronymous looked around, seeing a bright mist in every direction. Slowly the mist began to subside. He walked out of the gate to Iris Academy and looked around. The mist was barely visible now. He looked up at the clock tower, checking the time. The fountain next to him gurgled quietly, the only sound in the courtyard. Flowers everywhere in the quad were in full bloom. He adjusted his dark blue cape. The falcon on his belt buckle glinted in the sunlight, bathing the grounds of Iris Academy.

"Where am I?" Hieronymous asked himself, absent-mindedly.

Racing footsteps came from within the school gate. A young woman darted out of the entrance, her purple cape of Butterfly Hall flapping behind her. She sprinted up to him and then stooped over, catching her breathe. Her straight, long black hair fell around her as she leaned forward.

"Sorry... I'm... late," she said, her words punctuated with deep breathes.

"Violet," he whispered to himself.

"I know I promised I'd be on time, _this time_," she said with a cheerful smile.

A flood of memories overwhelmed Hieronymous, reorienting him.

"You didn't have to run all the way here," he replied, shaking his head with a smile, "Oversleep again?"

"Y-yeah..." she said, slightly embarrassed. She stood up straight and tossed her hair back over her shoulders. "I wish they'd let me bring my alarm clock," she said, smiling back at him.

Hieronymous frowned, feeling uneasy.

"Hey, something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"No," he paused, "No, it's nothing," he said, the feeling slipping away. He felt alive and carefree on this perfect spring day.

Her hand slipped into his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

He squeezed her hand back and lead them down one of the paths lined with beautiful purple irises.

They walked along taking in the sights and talking.

"I was up late, working on Potsdam's assignment. I think it turned out really well. Oh, before I forget, what would you like for your birthday?" she asked, her face lighting up with excitement.

He was about to reply when he stopped. Something on the edge of his mind was bothering him again.

"What is it?" she asked, her brow creased. She placed a hand gingerly on his cheek, searching his dark eyes.

"Violet..." he said slowly. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a very long time."

"You're right. We haven't seen each other in a long time, because school's been out for summer."

This seemed plausible to him, but rang false.

"No, that isn't it," he said with concentration. He clutched her hand on the side of his face, holding it close.

He felt a glimmer of understanding dawn.

"You... died," he said uncertainly.

"What?" she asked, deeply troubled by his accusation. She laughed, finding the idea ridiculous, "I think I would remember something like that."

His was inclined to agree with her. It was absurd to argue that someone standing in front of you was dead.

"Maybe you're right. Perhaps I was mistaken," he said, trying to recall if someone else had died recently. How could he make such a mistake, he wondered. He thought of all the funerals he could recall, but only one came to mind. Hers.

"No," he said, absolutely sure. "You died, I remember it."

"Then why am I here?" she said, asking the obvious. She was struggling to follow his logic.

"You're not. You're my memory of Violet... I'm dreaming."

The moment he said it, he felt the truth of it. Becoming fully aware of his dream, everything around him gained clarity and his memory fully returned. The mist around them completely evaporated. His high school uniform disappeared, replaced with his instructors robes. He looked four years older.

"Oh, my God..." Violet said, her eyes filled with tears, "then, am I really dead?"

"...yes," Hieronymous said. Despite being in a dream, he felt terrible being the one to tell her.

She turned away, shaking with choked sobs.

He gently hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her head.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to console her.

"H-hey, what are you cheering me up for? I'm not really here," she said through her sobs.

"Maybe not... but, I've upset you none the less."

"Hieronymous... I'm so sorry," she turned and hugged him, crying harder.

"It's alright, it's not your fault," he said gently, stroking her hair.

"How did I die?" she whispered, pleading.

He looked into the distance, seeing the events of the past unfold.

Violet screamed as Hieronymous was pinned by a horde of goblins. She cast spells at the creatures, trying to save him, but he was safe behind his wards, unable to act as the goblins descended upon her. Her wards, unlike his, broke in an instant.

He looked away from the scene, her screams ringing in his ears. He willed the vision away and they were once again alone together in the quiet school grounds.

Violet quietly sat down on a stone bench, deep in thought.

He sat down beside her, watching her face.

"What happened then... I don't blame you for any of it, you know that, right?"

"I know," he said, looking at the clouds in the sky.

"Do you blame yourself?" she asked knowingly.

"Of course," he said simply. "And don't waste your time talking me out of feeling guilty. I knew better than to bring you there."

"Yes, but it was my idea to go in the first place."

"That doesn't make it any less my fault," he replied.

"Stubborn man," she said wistfully, putting her head on his shoulder.

"Are you and Aloysius still talking?"

He snorted at the idea of talking to his father.

Violet scowled at him.

"He loves you, you know. Don't let me being gone come between the two of you."

"You know it goes _much_ further back than you."

She sighed.

"Well, alright," she said grudgingly dropping the subject. "What's new in your life?"

"I finished my degree and I teach at Iris Academy. And most recently, I was coerced into getting married," he said with a chuckle.

"What?" she said, sitting up straight. "You were forced into marrying someone?"

"Well, it was to save her soul. It wasn't some sort of scandal."

"Oh," she said sitting back. "Well, that must be awkward. But on that note, I must know, what is _the _Mrs. Grabiner like?" she asked playfully.

Hieronymous thought of Gwen.

"She's brave, intelligent, stubborn and impetuous. Usually in that order," he said smiling despite himself.

"Do you like her?" she asked roguishly.

"I don't dislike her."

"You know what I mean," she said, giving him a warm and playful smile.

Seeing her cheerful smile again pierced the last of his defenses. His heart ached ferociously.

He held her close, burying his face in her hair.

"I miss you so much," he whispered.

The dream began to slip away, and he felt himself waking up.

"I'm always with you, stubborn man."

The words began to fade, even as they echoed inside his head.

His eyes flew open as he awoke in a large, stone room. Sitting up, he looked around. He looked at his hands to see them bound by chains. _I can break these with ease_, he thought to himself. He looked up, seeing Alcinous sitting confidently across the room.

"Stubborn is right," Hieronymous said quietly, smiling wickedly.

* * *

Gwen wondered in vain what time it was. Although wizards seemed to approve of clocks, this room didn't have one. Abandoning her bed she got up and stalked around the room, attempting to tire herself out. From the back of her mind, the location spell beckoned her to a dimension she couldn't reach. Exasperated, she kicked her bed frame. The frame slid, hitting a night stand. A large vase teetered precariously and, to Gwen's horror, fell.

A shadowy hand intercepted it before it hit the ground.

"That could have been expensive."

Startled, Gwen screamed at the top of her lungs and jumped back.

The man cloaked in shadow fluidly returned the vase to its perch. Folding his arms, he leaned back against the wall casually.

Gwen caught her breath. Her heart was pounding in her chest violently. She looked toward the door.

"Aloysius is gone," he said. His voice was still as deep and distorted as it had been the last time she had seen him at Iris Academy's auditorium.

"You scared me half to _death_," she hissed at him, her pulse still thudding.

"Apologies, Lady Grabiner," he said, with a half bow.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours," she said, eying him with a mixture of fear and curiosity. His form was made entirely out of shadows. They whipped and danced around in the vague form of a man hooded in an unusual style of robes.

"My name is Agravian," he said.

Gwen was relieved he didn't extend his hand. She wasn't sure if touching someone made of shadow was safe, or even possible. If she was being brutally honest with herself, just talking to someone made of shadow probably wasn't the safest thing she had ever done.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night visit, Agravian?"

"I require your assistance with a matter that is both very dangerous, and quite unorthodox. In exchange, however, I will assist you in saving your husband, Lord Grabiner."

Before Gwen could reply, he raised his hand and continued.

"I can assure you, with my assistance, our success is assured."

Gwen bit her lip, unsure. Aloysius seemed confident in his ability to rescue Hieronymous.

"Right now you're thinking, you don't need me because Aloysius is preparing a rescue."

She wondered if he was psychic or if he had been eavesdropping.

"Aloysius said he doesn't need my help," Gwen said, recalling his insistence that she remain away from the Otherworld.

"Although that is what he said, what the Viscount Montague doesn't realize, is that he is walking into a trap," Agravian said sounding assured of himself.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Gwen asked.

"You don't. But the alternative is to let Aloysius die. And possibly Hieronymous," he said solemnly.

Gwen thought very hard, and then said, "Promise you will help me rescue Aloysius and Hieronymous. That you will make sure all three of us escape safely back to Iris Academy."

_A promise in the magical world is a binding contract, after all, _Gwen thought. To violate it was to lose your powers and your memory, too.

"Of these things, I promise," he said, his voice changing suddenly to friendly. "Then we have an accord."

He paced the room with nonchalance.

"I will open a portal for you tomorrow, when the time is right. The place you are going is well guarded by both goblins and demons alike. We will not escape without great effort. Your novice magic skills will not be enough to combat your enemies," he said, stopping in front of her.

"I'll be prepared," she said, a sly grin crossing her face as an idea occurred to her. She looked up at him, "You never explained what you needed from me in return."

"Soon," he replied simply.

He raised his hand and chanted. His low, guttural voice boomed, filling the room until it echoed from the walls. A black and crimson light swirled in his raised right hand, illuminating the room in red light and swirls of black shadows. Gwen stared, fascinated.

Enunciating the last three syllables of the spell in a roar, he drove his hand quick as lightning through Gwen's chest.

Gwen gasped as she felt her blood run cold. She cried out as a burning sensation filled her chest, below her collar bone.

"My mark," Agravian said, pulling his hand back. "Our contract is sealed."

He disappeared, leaving her alone in the room.

The crimson light still illuminated the walls, even in his absence.

Clutching her chest where it had been impaled, she rushed toward a mirror and looked at her reflection. Red runes burned brightly across her chest. Her body was barely visible; she was a figure of dancing shadows.


	7. Chapter 7

Gwen stared at her reflection in the mirror, gripped by the surreal. The crimson runes continued to blaze across her ethereal chest, bathing the room in a rippling red light.

Her body was no more than delicate wisps of smoke in a feminine silhouette.

Hesitantly, she reached out to the mirror with the wispy shadow of her hand.

She pressed firmly on the mirror and a wave of relief washed over her as she felt the glass.

She was still corporeal and, therefore, definitely not a ghost. The idea of haunting the world as a disembodied specter was an unpleasant one to be presented with.

_Definitely not a ghost,_ she repeated, silently reassuring herself and taking a deep sigh of relief.

Mentally, she beckoned the room's magical lighting on.

The runes and shadows ebbed until her normal appearance became faintly visible. Her pale skin and red hair appeared beneath a dark mist. Slowly, the mist evaporated and disappeared. Her eyes remained black orbs. The effect made her look terrifying, even to herself. Finally, however, they too gave way to the white of her eyes and the dark green of her irises.

Seeing her own eyes looking back at her quelled the panic rising in her chest.

"What have I gotten myself into this time..." she wondered aloud to her reflection.

With no desire to stay in the guest room a moment longer, she turned away from the mirror and left.

Downstairs, she found the mansion oppressively quiet. She scurried to the kitchen and retrieved a small handful of coins from the jar and placed them in her pocket. Frowning, she wished in vain that she had teleported with her wallet so she could leave some American currency, at least. She shook her head. Of all of the things she would regret tonight, she knew this would be the least of her conscience's worries.

She slid her feet into her sandals and walked out into the brisk, night air of London.

There was a sidewalk outside of Aloysius' house, illuminated by street lamps.

Looking carefully for any sign of a pay phone, she wandered away from the mansion, mentally noting which one it was so she could find it again.

As she walked, listening to her footfalls in the silence, she played through the events of the evening.

_First_, she thought. _Hieronymous is being held prisoner by a man named Alcinous Alden. In the Otherworld. Or, as it's known to me, the one place I should never go under any circumstances._

She scowled at this.

_Second,_ she went on, turning left as the street ended in a fork. _Agravian._

Thinking his name, she frowned and folded her arms.

_He claims he's a friend. He turned me into a shadow like him and gave me his "mark", whatever that means. And tomorrow, he's coming to open the Spiral Gate to the Otherworld._

She shook her head and remembered Professor Potsdam's lecture on the subject of the Otherworld.

"The world you see around you is only the tiniest fraction of all that exists," she had said. "There are infinite realms which exist outside of our own space and time. The nearest such realm is that which we call the 'Otherworld'."

Gwen tilted her head, trying to remember the rest of the lecture. She had been thinking about her campaign for school treasurer at the time. She momentarily reflected how winning such a mundane affair had so drastically altered the path of her life.

"You students must not enter the Otherworld under any circumstances. Can any of you tell me why that is?"

Minnie, one of her classmates, had eagerly risen her hand and explained how delectable the inhabitants of the Otherworld found human souls to be. The professor had quickly interrupted and politely thanked her before she could go into graphic detail.

"The Otherworld is a wonderful place," her memory of the lecture picked back up. "Magic flows more freely there, and many witches and wizards choose to live there full-time. But we are not native to it, and we are not immune to its dangers. Do not attempt to pass the Gate. Not even with an adult to guard you. Not even with a powerful spell or artifact to protect you. Not even with a friend who has been there before and told you it's safe. Some of your classmates have other-than-human heritage, but what is safe for them is not safe for you. Most importantly, if a spirit invites you to the Otherworld, do not accept, no matter what you are promised," Gwen frowned guiltily at this recollection. "I am not saying this to frighten you, or to challenge you to find a way around my rules. If you disobey, I will not need to punish you, because you will be gone."

Gwen stopped and looked up into the night sky.

_The professor's right. And so is Aloysius. I don't belong in the Otherworld._

Her eyes widened as she came to a realization.

_Of course, _she thought, chiding herself for not thinking of it sooner. _I can warn Aloysius he's walking into a trap. That solves everything._

She concentrated on the Far Speak spell, a smile on her face.

'Aloysius,' Gwen thought at him.

'Ah, Gwen,' his voice reverberated in her mind.

She had not used the spell very often, so it was still a little odd to her. Sometimes voices tickled her brain. His voice, however, sounded friendly and sincere, and somehow reminded her of a warm blanket on a cold winter's day.

'Is there something I can help you with?' his voice asked gently.

'I wanted to tell you...' she started, but her mind shut down before she could finish the thought.

She tried again.

Her mind stubbornly refused to obey.

A worried frown crossed her face. She tried to think Agravian's name. The same brick wall greeted her efforts. She tried to transmit something, anything, about her becoming a shadow, the image of the red runes, or details about Agravian himself.

'Gwen, are you still there?' Aloysius asked with concern.

Gwen screamed in frustration.

'Never mind,' tears welled up in her eyes. 'I just wanted to say... please be careful.'

'We will, never you worry, my dear,' he replied cheerfully.

Gwen felt the connection break away.

She walked on in despair, with nothing but her thoughts for company, until a pay phone finally came into view.

Following the directions written on the pay phone, she dialed 001 and then entered her phone number.

Though it was still early morning in London, she knew it would be late evening at home.

Her father answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Dad," she said, her own voice bubbling with happiness at the sound of his.

"Hey, that's weird," he said, sounding confused.

"What?" she asked.

"The caller ID. There's a really long area code from your end," he replied.

"Huh, weird," she replied, trying to sound equally puzzled. "Listen, I wanted to tell you what happened at school. There was a lot of confusion, but," she thought back to the fictional story she had devised, "apparently I received a scholarship to attend summer school. All my classes are already paid for, they just forgot to tell me."

"Oh," he said. His voice sounded far away, considering the story. "Are you going to attend the classes or come home?"

He sounded as if he sincerely believed her.

She rested her head against the glass window of the tiny pay phone box and covered her eyes.

"I think I should stay and take the classes. It would be a real waste not to use a scholarship, you know?"

"Well, alright. We'll miss having you around for summer. Just let us know if you change your mind and we'll come get you. It's only a hundred fifty miles," he said jovially, as if he didn't mind driving any distance for her.

Her throat choked up.

"Sweetie?"

She coughed.

"Nothing, just thinking, you're the best dad in the world, you know that?"

"I do what I can," he replied playfully.

"Hey, I have to run, it's time for dinner, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sure, have fun. I'll tell your mother."

"Thanks, love you."

"Love you, too."

"Bye," she said in a whisper.

"Good night," he said as he hung up the phone.

* * *

"Viscount," prompted a feminine voice.

"_Viscount_," she repeated, louder this time.

Aloysius started.

"Oh, my," he rubbed at his eyes. "What time is it, my dear?"

"A little after eight in the morning," she replied, handing him a steaming cup.

"Oh, bless your heart, Olivia," he said accepting the cup and sipping gratefully. In the ten years she had been his right-hand, he had never had a complaint about the temperature, strength or amount of cream and sugar.

_No one makes a cup of tea like Olivia,_ thought Aloysius. _Each cup reflects the particular person._

"Everyone is briefed and ready when you are, sir," she replied.

Olivia was smartly dressed and, as always, in her set of serious black robes. She wore her short, black hair and bangs clipped sharp and even. A set of thin, black glasses framed her face and her black high heels brought her eye to eye with the taller members of the council. Not a single, other soul wore heels in the large council building, so when one heard their familiar 'click-clack', most jumped up in their chair, knowing who would be descending upon them. Her arms were folded and a severe expression was set on her face as a rule.

In stark contrast to her serious appearance, she always wore a vivid shade of red lipstick. Her skill in politics made her a highly sought after second, but she would work with no one other than the Viscount Montague.

With a final sip of his tea, Aloysius set his cup down on his desk beside the picture of a young boy with shaggy, black hair. His gaze settled on the photograph. He reached for it tentatively, but his fingers wavered, unable to touch it. Silently, he withdrew his hand, resting his fingers against his temple.

"Sir?" Olivia asked, faintly raising an eyebrow.

Aloysius shook off his melancholy and slapped his hands on his desk, standing sharply.

"Let's go get my son back," he said with a manic grin.

"Yes, sir," Olivia replied with a smile.

Leaving his office behind, they walked toward the conference room at the end of the hall.

"I'm going to need you here looking after things while I'm away. I shouldn't be long, but the bill regarding white magic presage needs reviewing, and..."

Olivia cut him off, placing her hand on the door to the conference room, "I'm coming with you."

"I can't allow that," Aloysius replied firmly. "I need you here."

"I wasn't asking," she said, opening the door for him.

The eight people gathered in the conference room fell silent and turned to look at Aloysius.

He stared hard at Olivia, but she didn't bat so much as an eyelash.

"You're welcome to fire me," she said quietly, a small smile touching her lips.

The hardened expression on his face cracked and gave way to a warm smile.

"Very well," he said quietly. Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, he turned and strode into the room.

"My friends," Aloysius greeted them. "I appreciate your coming on such short notice. I am in your debt," he said graciously.

Behind him Olivia began chanting a spell, the words clipped and articulate.

"Please, cast your wards now," Aloysius directed them.

A cacophony of commands filled the room followed by bursts of light from white runes spiraling before their casters.

"Please carefully inspect the ward of the person to your left, then the person to your right."

While the gathered men and women inspected one another, he heard Olivia complete the ritual of summoning. There was a brilliant shimmer in the air, followed by the appearance of a gate. The large gate looked, at first glance, like an elegant one from a wealthy estate, but on closer observation the metal was twisted into hundreds of thousands of tiny, delicate spirals. A magnificent lock joined either side of the gate at the center, adorned with a serpent devouring its tail. An opaque shimmer of white light emanated from within its ornate frame.

After inspecting Olivia's wards and vice versa, Aloysius stood before the gate.

With a wave of his hand the lock fell away and the gate spread apart with a faint metallic noise.

The group of witches and wizards strode through the Spiral Gate.

Aloysius blinked in the pitch black on the other side. He felt the tingle of Otherworld magic all around and began chanting an Awareness spell.

He heard his comrades chanting as well. Too late, he realized that it wasn't just chanting; it was a group chant. The spell, he barely recognized as a prison ward, went off before he could react.

Eight white runes formed a circle around him.

Olivia tossed a light spell into the air.

"It appears we've been betrayed, sir," she said, her voice grim, and stepped in front of him.

* * *

Alcinous stared down at his prisoner, his arms folded.

Hieronymous' unnerving, raven black eyes intently followed his every move. Long chains shackled his wrists to flagstones on either side of him. He had grown bored of standing hours before, and now rested on one knee.

The two men glowered at one another.

Alcinous turned his head, listening to something.

A victorious smile on his face, he returned his gaze to Hieronymous.

"I have good news and bad. The good, is that you'll have your father for company. The bad, is that you really have no hope of ever leaving here."

He saw surprise spread across Hieronymous' face.

"Then," Hieronymous replied resolutely, "you intend on incarcerating us within this disused prison, rather than doing away with us. If it's all the same to you," he said, folding his hands to rest upon his wrists, "I favor solitary confinement to the companionship of my father."

"I'll see what I can arrange," Alcinous said with a mock bow. He turned to acknowledge eight hooded figures assembling in the room.

A slow and wicked smile spread across Hieronymous' lips.

His thin, elegant fingers tapped twice and the shackles on his wrists shattered.


	8. Chapter 8

One hour previously...

Gwen was fast asleep in bed on top of the covers. An arsenal of guns and ammunition was spread out beside her. Four empty 9mm pistols laid across the patchwork quilt. At her feet lay a 12 gauge shotgun. Her right hand rested on the pillow by her face, clutching a 9mm magazine. Finally, a hunting knife lay on her nightstand.

Her soft, white sun dress was discarded on the floor, replaced with a more rugged outfit. Having liberated a set of clothing from the security team's abandoned van, Gwen now wore a black, leather jacket, unzipped, with a white shirt beneath; all magically altered to fit. A rugged pair of leather pants and solid looking boots completed the ensemble. Her long, red hair was done back in a tight braid.

Agravian tilted his head to the side looking at the firearms. He reached down and picked up one of the pistols. Peering down into the barrel, he heard a click from the bed.

Gwen was sitting up with a loaded pistol aimed at him in both hands.

Groggily, she registered the shadowy figure of Agravian unwittingly aiming a gun at himself. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you," she advised.

As Agravian replaced the gun, she noticed him inadvertently pull the trigger back.

_Good thing I didn't leave that loaded_, she thought. _Gun safety for the win._

Gwen sat down heavily. She'd woken up abruptly, sensing someone else was in the room. The rush of adrenaline she'd had was gone now.

"Good morning, m'lady," Agravian said, with a small bow.

Her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Good morning," she replied bitterly. She set about checking the safeties on her pistols and loading them with magazines.

Agravian watched silently as Gwen gathered the weapons together, slinging her shotgun into the holster behind her back. The pistols she slid into holsters at her belt and on her upper thighs. Finally she sheathed the hunting knife in her belt.

Agravian pointed, politely maintaining his distance, "What are these? 'Guns', you said?"

"Yes, they're guns," she said shortly. Glaring at him she continued, "They're... weapons. Just don't touch them."

She took a deep breath and folded her arms.

"Let's get this over with."

"You are upset with me," he said, posing it as a question faintly.

She paused in the middle of zipping up her jacket to gave him an astounded look

"Are you for real?"

He tilted his head again, considering her words.

"I suspect you are using modern slang. No one has ever asked if I am 'real' or not," he said, stroking his chin.

His form was still naught but shadow, giving Gwen cause to believe this question was actually rather valid, considering.

"Okay," Gwen said taking a deep breath. His casual demeanor was grating her last nerve. "The last time I saw you, you shoved a hand straight _through_ my chest. You turned me into a shadow creature. And when I tried to say something to my father-in-law about all of this, my mind shut down!" her voice became steadily louder, screaming the last words at him.

She drew in shaky, angry breaths. Realizing her teeth were clenched, she forced them apart and said, practically in a growl, "Just open the damn gate already."

She thought she could see his wispy form wince.

"Please, calm down, m'lady, your anger is very taxing," he said, placing a hand on his forehead.

"Taxing?!" she shouted in disbelief. _She_ was taxing _him_? After everything she'd been through in the past twelve hours; the fear, the not knowing, the waiting, and here he had the gall...

Agravian stumbled to the bed and sat down heavily, muttering quietly to himself.

Gwen wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him whisper something about 'women' somewhere in his mutterings.

Agravian indicated a spot beside him with a hand.

"Please, sit and," he tried to say his next words in as delicate a tone as possible, "try not to become emotional."

Gwen glowered at the shadow man, but sat beside him.

"I have not been in the company of others in some time. Forgive me, I've been socially indelicate," he slouched forward into a comfortable position.

"I owe you a great many explanations. To begin with," he snatched the knife from her belt in the blink of an eye. Holding it up his left hand, he slashed the knife across his palm.

Gwen clutched her left hand in pain. Carefully, she removed her right hand and looked down at the cradled palm. To her surprise, her skin was pale and unmarred.

Agravian returned her knife.

"My mark," he said, his voice as echoing and unearthly as always, "is the sign of our contract. With it comes a bond."

"I didn't agree to be part of any contract," Gwen said decisively.

"You wouldn't need to, this particular contract is one-sided. It is my burden, not yours."

"I feel your pain though... what happens to me if you die?"

He chuckled. The sound was oddly disconcerting due to his shadow voice.

"I am exceptionally hard to kill. But, if I did perish, you would experience extreme discomfort, but be otherwise whole. My runes would fade and our contract would be at an end."

Gwen swallowed. Her anger was gone now, replaced with uneasiness. Talking to a shadow was, well, eerie to say the least.

"Who, and what, are you?" she asked

"Your people call my race 'Shadow Assassins'."

Agravian looked away, lost in thought, Gwen sensed.

Startled, she realized she wasn't making an astute observation. She could actually feel his mind empathically.

"The Otherworld can wait for us a little longer," he said, coming to a decision. "I will tell you a story. Long ago, human wizards ventured into The Otherworld for the first time. They found it both beautiful and terrible. Some groups of humans sought to establish cities. They had no idea what manner of beasts lurked in the dark."

Gwen felt a slight chill.

"My people feasted upon many souls. Human souls were unique, the taste unparalleled."

Gwen surreptitiously rested a hand on the pistol furthest from Agravian.

"Of all the denizens that attacked the human settlements, shadow assassins were the most feared and abhorred. A group of wizards calling themselves 'The Inquisitors' emerged."

Though he looked placid, she could feel a seething, overwhelming hatred emanate from him. The feeling was so powerful, hearing the word 'Inquisitor', made her dizzy with anger.

"My race was far from innocent. However, we had lived there long before the wizards came, and we only did what came naturally to us. The Inquisitors hunted us down, murdering every man, woman and child."

Gwen fought down the fury rising up inside of her. She understood all too well why he had emphatically referred to her emotions as 'taxing'.

"Declaring humans the only 'pure' race, they devote their existence to the extermination of all other beings."

Gwen found this information shocking. School had never mentioned anything like it. Was this in later history books, or did witches and wizards do their best to forget it, she wondered.

She felt underneath all of his anger a wave of frightful loneliness.

"How many of you are left?" she asked quietly.

"I am the last. As far as I know," he replied distantly.

"I was nearly executed by a group of Inquisitors when I was young. I barely managed to escape, but I was badly injured. That was the day I met Talfryn."

A warm feeling of nostalgia made Gwen smile wistfully.

"I had crawled into a dark alley to escape the men pursuing me. I was trying to blend with the shadows, but my strength was waning. A light snow was falling. I hadn't realized that my blood had left a trail to me on the white snow."

Gwen felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"With no family left to return to, no one left of my race, I began to bitterly laugh. Fighting so hard for my survival, I felt, was a joke. I had nothing to survive for. And at that moment, I looked up and saw Talfryn."

Closing her eyes, Gwen could just see a tall, angular man with dark hair. He was dressed in black furs and splendid robes.

"I smiled up at him, thinking he had come to end my suffering. My own dark angel of death, come to kill me there in the dark, with the snow falling around us."

He grew silent.

"What happened next?" Gwen asked quietly, her curiosity unbearable.

"To my surprise, he took me into his home and placed me under the protection of his house. His family nursed me back to health. He was willing to risk his life and his station to protect a 'shadow assassin'. Touched by his kindness, I swore to protect his family until the day I died. He was the first human I granted my mark."

He chuckled to himself.

"When he would take his shadow form, Talfryn would jokingly call himself the 'Shade of Shetlock'."

Gwen's eyes widened in wonder.

"Sorry, Shetlock was the name of the human settlement there," he explained.

_Shetlock..._ she whispered in her mind. Then she recalled Aloysius' signature:

_Aloysius Grabiner_

_ 16th Viscount Montague_

_Shade of Shetlock_

"You swore to protect the Grabiners," she said in astonishment.

He nodded.

"In honor of Talfryn Grabiner. The first Viscount Montague. I have protected many generations of his house. My race is long-lived compared to your own."

"This mark..." she said, pointing to her chest where the runes had appeared last night. "You only share it with Grabiners?"

He nodded once more.

"Then, honestly, why me? Why not Aloysius or Hieronymous?"

"Do you remember when I told you, I needed your assistance with a very dangerous matter?"

"Yes..." she said with trepidation.

"What you see before you is not my real body. This is a shadow projection. My race can blend with shadows and use shadow magic, but our normal form looks human. My physical body is imprisoned. I sleep in the same location as your husband, Lord Grabiner. I need you to set me free."

Gwen looked at him incredulously.

"Why are you in prison? Did you devour someone's soul?" she asked, sickened.

"Would you eat a chicken or a cow if you could hold a conversation with one?"

"Absolutely not."

"There's your answer."

She eased her hand off of her pistol, content in the knowledge that he would not be trying to eat her soul. Their psychic link seemed to afford her the ability to tell if he was lying or being truthful. She sighed, wondering where she had went wrong in life that her morning musings included such thoughts as, _no, he's not going to eat my soul, I can psychically tell the 1,000ish year old, imprisoned shadow assassin is telling the truth. Other people my age are wondering if they want a summer job in cashiering or not,_ she thought with a small pang of envy.

"I imprisoned myself," Agravian continued.

"Come again?" Gwen asked, doing a double take.

"The Inquisitors threatened the family of the fifth Viscount Montague. They demanded I be put to death. Instead, I imprisoned myself with the help of a woman named Camise Grabiner. I slumbered, content the family would wake me if they had need of my protection. This satisfied the Inquisitors, though they were vexed that they could not kill me. But they left the family in peace."

"I'm still not sure how I fit into all of this," Gwen said, frowning.

"I was sealed by a member of house Grabiner, hence, only a member of the house can release me."

His explanation for being imprisoned felt honest, but she could only conclude one reason for his coming to her instead of the other two men of the family.

"And you thought, 'only Gwen could possibly be that naive and trusting', was that it?" she asked in irritation.

_Honestly, you unnecessarily rescue a man from a manus, get forced into marrying him, and you never hear the end of it!_ she thought in a huff.

Gwen was surprised to hear Agravian snickering quietly at her.

"What?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"Apologies, m'lady, but you are amusing. I didn't come to you because I thought you were either 'naive' or 'trusting'. Two nights ago I was able to project my shadow for the first time in a long while. I watched as you recklessly attacked the smug, contemptible manus ten times your superior in power to save your husband. And forced him to yield. In that moment, I felt us... kindred," he said with pride.

Gwen couldn't help but smile at the complement.

"I gave you my mark to protect you, not to anger or frighten you. You are of house Grabiner, and I would see no evil befall you. I thoroughly wish it was not necessary to ask you to journey into my realm. My mark will help protect you, granting you speed and grace. You will be able to meld with shadows and become immune to the effects of white magic. But until I am free, you cannot make use of my powers."

Gwen blew a loose strand of red hair away from her eye.

"Alright, Agravian. I think... I trust you. But, tell me, why can't I say your name to others?"

"It's dangerous to say my name with magic. My mark prevents it, for your protection. The Inquisitors are always listening. Anything relating to me cannot be said magically."

Gwen felt a chill along her spine. She'd assumed these so-called "Inquisitors" were a thing of the past, not the present.

"You're afraid," he said directly.

"Yeah... Despite how I'm dressed, I don't feel like Lara Croft. I don't want to be a hero. Heroes get killed," she whispered, hugging her knees.

"I agree," he said. "But you aren't a hero, you are an assassin. And rest assured, no one has ever called a shadow assassin a hero."

Gwen smiled faintly, feeling slightly reassured.

"Why did you agree to go?" he asked, intrigued.

"You know, that's something I've been asking myself a lot. And, I expect it's because..." she paused, flicking the tail of her braid apprehensively, "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try."

She looked at him, her brow creased. Her feelings were all tangled up. She was terrified of dying, embarrassed that he could sense her fear, and self-conscious that her emotions were probably overwhelming him.

Gently, the shadow assassin draped a reassuring arm around her and let her rest her head on his shoulder. His shadow form felt cool and oddly supportive.

"Lady Grabiner," his echoing shadow voice said, squeezing her in a small hug, "my people have a saying in times like these. 'Cheat death, for the bastard will surely try to cheat you.' Let us cheat death together this day."

"Alright," she smiled, grateful she could steel herself with his confidence through their link.

She stood up, smoothing her jacket and hair.

"You are the first woman I've granted my mark. It's... unique," he said playfully mocking her.

"Ohhh, I pity you once a month," she said diabolically. "We'll be hitting the Rocky Road ice cream together," she added with an impish smile. "Unless we can block out this empathy, somehow?"

"Yes, proximity makes it difficult, but it's easy at a dist-" he broke off mid-sentence.

"We have to go. Now," he said urgently.

After a chant and a wave of his hand, the lock of the Spiral Gate fell away and Gwen raced through the gate.

Agravian's form melted away, his shadow projection spent from opening the gate.


	9. Chapter 9

Hugging her back to the stone wall, Gwen reached to her belt and pulled a pistol out with each hand. The cold metal in her hands felt reassuring in the dark, unfamiliar world. The corridor was dimly lit, the magical lighting having dissipated over the years.

Agravian's voice sounded clear in her mind, for the first time she heard it without the shadowy quality.

'Gwen, you should be able to sense where I am. Concentrate on me.'

His words were clear, but his accent was unfamiliar to her.

Focusing, Gwen closed her eyes and thought of only Agravian. Opening her eyes, she could feel a slight pull guiding her unerringly toward his location. Moving cautiously down the hall, she aimed her sudden thought back to him, 'Wards! I forgot to ask if I needed a ward here?'

'My mark is better than any ward.'

'Alright,' she said with relief.

The corridor came to a fork. She sensed she needed to turn left. Peeking around the corner, she looked cautiously for any sign of movement. Seeing none, she turned the corner.

At the same time a gang of ten goblins entered the corridor from the other end. The brutish creatures let out a crazed howl and gleefully charged at her.

Quickly recovering from her surprise, Gwen flicked the safeties off and aimed both of her guns. Rapidly, she fired six shots. The noise echoed, reverberating between the narrow walls of the corridor.

She wasn't sure how many of her shots hit their marks, as the projectiles exploded in red sparks. The bullets of her right pistol erupted in a sheet of frost that covered her enemies, hampering their movement. The shots fired from her left gun erupted in chains of lightning, arcing and dancing amidst the goblins.

The horde collapsed in a charred, frosty heap.

Gwen sprinted down the hall, following her senses toward Agravian. She was sure someone would have heard the commotion. Charging at the frost she jumped onto the thick, icy layer, letting her momentum slide her to the end of the patch. She looked at the pile of goblins in amazement.

A final glance at their smoldering bodies gave her an appreciation for the council's desire to keep magic and technology separate. Enchanting the bullets had been a good move, in her opinion. There would be severe consequences if anyone found out, but at least she'd be alive to be punished. For now, she had an edge and intended to use it; her mana wouldn't run out from casting offensive spells while she could fire them in the form of bullets instead. She didn't even need to take precious time to aim, since just getting near her target was enough to do tremendous damage.

Rounding another corner and making a right turn, she raced past numerous dark cells. In the distance she thought she could hear growls and howls. Finally, she felt Agravian's presence and came to a halt before a cell, shrouded in darkness. Snapping the safeties on her pistols, she holstered them.

Swallowing, she placed her hand on the lock and chanted an Open spell. Her voice wavered as she heard a piercing, inhuman shriek not far off. Other barks and screams picked up the call and echoed down the labyrinth of corridors. Finishing the spell, she heard a click and pushed the gate open. As she quickly stepped inside, she tossed a ball of light into the air, where it hovered illuminating the dungeon cell.

A man lay asleep on the ground. He wore a hooded, sleeveless black tunic over a white dress shirt. The loose sleeves of his shirt tucked into leather gloves and bracers with silver decorations across the top. A black cape with a red lining was draped over one shoulder beneath a pauldron on his left side. His waist caught Gwen's eye, adorned with a thick cummerbund comprised of silver leaves, red cloth and leather straps. A pair of soft leather boots reached almost to his knees.

Kneeling beside him, Gwen looked at his face for the first time. His black hood hid his eyes from view. There were deep lines etched in his face and he had a graying black French beard. He was sleeping deeply.

Gwen heard the scrabble of claws against stone. She was certain that her pursuers were not far off.

Closing her eyes, she placed both of her hands together on his chest.

Light pressed against her closed eyes, but she ignored it and concentrated her energies on rapidly dissolving the layers of magic imprisoning him.

She could sense she was almost through the last layer of runes.

The sounds of snarls were practically on top of her now. With every ounce of concentration she could muster, she broke through the final rune.

Gwen felt a claw barely graze her back as Agravian stirred beneath her hands. Moving with inhuman speed, he pushed her away, rolling to his feet. She watched as his fist connected with the stomach of an orc, staggering it to its knees. Launching himself over the orc, he rolled across the creature's back in a somersault. Landing behind the creature, he quickly ducked a fist swinging at his head and slammed his open palm against his attacker's head, forcing it in an unnatural direction with an audible crack. Gwen watched the monster collapse. Glancing around, she couldn't tell how many orcs and goblins had flooded the hall.

A pair of hairy green arms grabbed Agravian around the shoulders from behind as another beast ran toward him, holding a rusty sword. Agravian slammed his head back, colliding with the face of the orc grappling him. Dazed, it loosened it's grip allowing Agravian to slip away, before the assailant's sword could reach him. Unable to stop its swing, the orc thrust the rusty sword into chest of his ally. The impaled orc screamed and howled in pain.

A new foe stabbed a sword at him from behind. Sidestepping the blade, Agravian spun around beneath the still outstretched arm of his assailant. Following the momentum of his swing, Agravian twisted its arm, driving the sword into its midsection.

Agravian's movements were fluid, like those of a dancer. He seemed to have a sixth sense, dodging and weaving assaults from all directions. There were moments where she couldn't follow his attacks, and saw his foes fall to the ground, giving him the illusion of a walking angel of death.

When the last goblin had fallen, Gwen jumped up and tip toed around the bodies to him.

Agravian pointed a hand down the hall.

"Your father-in-law is that way. There is someone I must find."

"But-"

"Before we go our separate ways, know this; you can become a shadow now," he guided her to stand in a dark corner of the hall.

"Try to blend with the shadows," he directed. "Our kind calls it the 'shadowmeld'."

Oddly, Gwen felt at home in the dark. The shadows swallowed her, wrapping her like a blanket.

Agravian nodded in approval.

"If you run into danger, call me and I will come."

He walked into a shadow and she watched him meld with it, becoming a faint outline. He sprinted away.

Gwen, in her new shadow form, ran swiftly down the hall. More swiftly than she had ever run in her life. She had always been a talented athlete in track, but in the shadows, she felt like she could fly.

She spied a light spilling forth from a room not far off.

Slowing to a walk, she emerged from the shadows.

Inside, she saw Aloysius and a woman she had never seen before.

'Agravian,' Gwen aimed her thought at him, 'they're surrounded by wards... what do I do?'

'Now that I'm free, you are immune to white magic, and all but the strongest of wards will shatter before you.'

"Gwen?!" exclaimed Aloysius in surprise.

Gwen hastily approached a white ward, looking at the rune suspended in mid-air.

She shoved her hand through it, causing an explosion of sparks. The ward shattered into tiny specks of light and vanished.

A manus appeared at the door, accompanied by a group of nasty looking orcs.

"How did you do that?" Aloysius asked with excited curiously.

"Bigger problems!" Gwen exclaimed urgently.

"You're right. Let's go," Aloysius said with evident disappointment, turning toward the murderous creatures at the door.

Gwen knew she was outmatched when it came to manus', their magic exceeded her own, and she didn't have time to stand around.

"I'm going to find Hieronymous," she said.

Aloysius watched with fascination as she was swallowed up by the shadows and disappeared.

"Well, there's something you don't see everyday," he said in wonder.

Olivia stepped forward.

"I will handle this. Continue on with your errand, sir."

"Thank you, Olivia," he replied gratefully.

He teleported out into the hallway and headed in the direction of his son.

Presently...

Brushing his arms, the remaining pieces of Hieronymous' shackles fell to the ground.

Alcinous and his eight cloaked followers looked on at Hieronymous in bewilderment.

Tossing his hat aside, Hieronymous undid the clasp of his cloak, letting it drift to the floor.

Regaining their composure, one of the men spoke.

"You'll regret that," he said with a snarl.

There were two soft thuds as the man and his closest companion collapsed to the ground, unable to breathe.

The room became chaotic, exploding with chanting as the men frantically tried to shield themselves. Others launched into offensive magic with fireballs and ice lances slamming into Hieronymous. The illusion flickered and disappeared as the spells harmlessly passed through to the ground, leaving it scorched and wet.

"Is that the best you can do?" a voice cackled, with no discernible origin.

"Where _is _he?" growled a woman in frustration. She cast a detection spell, searching for another illusion.

"There!" shouted a cloaked man, pointing to an empty wall.

They turned, staring blankly and seeing nothing.

The cloaked figure, still pointing, smirked. With the flick of his hand, a wave of force washed over them and they were thrown helplessly into the empty wall. His illusion dropped away, revealing the tall, slender figure of Hieronymous.  
Before the men could regain their composure, he vanished, reappearing simultaneously beside one of the stunned figures. Subduing him with a sleep spell, he teleported away again, only to repeat the action on two other dazed figures.

Crawling to his feet, Alcinous began to chant, his three remaining men following suit. As they squared off, the air around them began to crackle with intensity.

_Damn_, thought Hieronymous. _That's more than I can handle in my current state._

A wicked smile crossed his lips as an idea formed.

With a snap of his fingers, his appearance blurred and began to oscillate. The rapid shifting caused multiple images of himself to split into different directions. After the oscillations had increased to an incomprehensible speed, a thunderous crack reverberated throughout the dungeon as bright, blue light exploded in all directions.

Where there had been only one, there now stood ten, identical Hieronymous'.

"Get them!" Alcinous screamed, infuriated.

The men launched a volley of fire attacks against the images of Hieronymous.

Even as the flames ripped through the illusions around them, the Hieronymous' began to chant, before teleporting wildly around the room.

Wasting no more time, Alcinous teleported, throwing a shockwave into the five remaining illusions.

The images disappeared, leaving three crumpled bodies on the floor in the center of the room.

"Thank you," Hieronymous said mockingly from behind Alcinous. "Your last three men could have really caused me trouble. I didn't have the mana to deal with all of them."

Alcinous turned toward Hieronymous, his face red with anger. A vein bulged on his forehead as he stared at the three corpses.

"You... Will... Die!" Alcinous said, frothing at the mouth and beginning to chant furiously.

Hieronymous frowned. "You just don't get it, do you?" he said, as though he were scolding a child.

Alcinous attempted to hasten the casting of his spell, tripping over his own words, before losing it.

With another flick of his wrist, Hieronymous imprisoned the now seething Alcinous, binding him within a ward.

"You're boring me," Hieronymous sighed. "Now, what are we going to do with you?"

Still mocking Alcinous, Hieronymous was surprised as a blue hand with sharp talons wrapped around his throat from behind, lifting him into the air. Hieronymous grasped desperately at the hand and, unable to remove it, his expression changed from surprise, to fear.

_Shit_, Hieronymous thought to himself again. _Did not see that coming._

"Kill him!" Alcinous hissed at the manus.


	10. Chapter 10

Warning: This chapter contains strong language and graphic violence.

Hieronymous could feel his head pounding violently as he fought to wrench free from the monstrous hand wrapped tightly around his throat. His lungs were on fire now, his hearing distant, and his vision blurred. From the corner of his eye, he could just barely see what looked like a shadow.

Silently, Gwen drew her knife. A new instinct whispered quietly inside of her; there were so many ways to kill a manus.

With catlike agility, she crept swiftly behind her unwary target. A small smile graced her lips as she drew back her hand and thrust her ethereal arm and blade deep within the demon's chest. The manus shuddered uncontrollably, electrified by the unfamiliar sensation.

Gwen tossed away the protective cloak of her shadow form, her physical body materializing and displacing the flesh that had once belonged to the demon. She twisted her knife sharply inside its chest, hearing it scream.

Ripping her arm free, its red blood splashed across the floor.

The manus staggered and Hieronymous fell to the floor, gasping loudly for air.

As the demon collapsed beside him, Hieronymous blinked, surprised by what he saw. Covered in blood with a dagger in hand, was his wife.

"Gwen?!" he croaked, before descending back into a coughing fit.

The manus too, seemed to recognize her, casting an angry look from her to the stump where its arm had once been before their last encounter.

Gwen stared intently at the thick, red blood coating her arm.

His breathing labored, Hieronymous rose to his feet

"Thank you, but...What_..._How did you...A_ manus...?" _he stammered.

"Run," she whispered. She gripped the knife tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Noticing that she was shaking, Hieronymous' face softened and he stepped toward her.

"Please..." she whispered quietly, unable to continue.

"It's okay," he said, "I'm fine."

"I know, but I'm not," she looked up at Hieronymous. Where he expected to see her green eyes, there were only black, empty orbs. Her appearance, and the sinister sound of her voice, made his blood run cold. "You should have _run."_

Gwen cocked her head from side to side, looking around the room hungrily. The smell of the blood was fascinating. She inhaled deeply. Quick, staccato drumming noises distracted her from the scent, pounding louder and louder. The drumming was a maddening cacophony of three hearts pounding in different rhythms. Her eyes began to flicker around the room, following the tiniest movements, unable to ignore any of them. Her instincts were no longer whispering, they were commanding.

Hieronymous started to cast a spell.

Gwen felt the tingle of magic gathering to a focus on top of her other dancing senses and screamed furiously. Lashing out at the source, she threw her dagger at Hieronymous.

Hieronymous lunged to the side, barely avoiding the projectile. His focus lost, the half formed spell dispersed into a crackle of static electricity, shocking his fingers.

Gwen disappeared, reappearing across the room almost instantly, snatching her dagger mid-flight.

Hieronymous shifted his weight, moving into a crouch. He channeled green energy and cast an instant spell. The world around him slowed down dramatically as his speed increased three fold.

"Gwen, I don't want to accidentally hurt you," Hieronymous said evenly, holding a hand out to try and forestall her. "Can you understand what I'm-"

Hieronymous was cut off by Gwen conjuring a fan of black knives and throwing them in his direction with a flick of her wrist. He took five quick leaps backward as each of the five knives hit the ground where he had been just before.

_I'll take that as a 'no' then_, he thought.

Hieronymous hastily cast a sleep spell, but Gwen sank back into the shadows. Having no target, the spell flickered out in his hand. He cursed, wiping the sweat away from his brow.

Calculating his remaining energy, he began to focus another spell, wrapping himself in the familiar embrace of blue magic. Ten images of himself took off at a run in different directions.

Gwen let out a sinister laugh. In a blur of movement, multiple shadow copies of herself split off, chasing after the doppelgangers. Gwen only had interest in one of the running figures. As her shadows pursued the duplicates, she moved with superhuman speed, lunging at the only body with a beating heart.

Hieronymous, looking at her over his shoulder, spun around and ducked low, barely evading the swing of her blade at the last moment. She pressed her attack, slashing and jabbing. Hieronymous dodged and weaved gracefully, and narrowly avoided her quickening swings. He teleported away from a near fatal swing, but when he reappeared, she was already instantly in front of him, continuing her relentless attack. The two of them blinked in and out, teleporting across the room.

Hieronymous, thinking quickly, threw a wave of force into the empty space ahead of him at the end of his last teleportation. Gwen appeared a moment later and was instantly thrown back across the room. Hieronymous' face contorted in concentration, focusing the last of his magic into a wave of crippling green energy. As Gwen rolled across the floor, the spell hit her and she felt most of her strength sapping away.

Hieronymous dropped his arms to his sides, his mana spent, he could cast no more.

Hissing, Gwen weakly pushed herself up.

'Gwen?' Agravian's voice echoed distantly in her mind. She ignored it, teleporting after her target.

Hieronymous had run toward the door, employing what was left of his speed spell. He was nearly there when Gwen teleported in front of his path. Startled, he stumbled back, unable to avoid Gwen springing at him. Knocking him to the ground, she brought her knife down in a swift arc to his throat.

'_S'VREL!_' Agravian's thundering command in Gwen's mind stopped her immediately, freezing her in place. Her knife was pressed against Hieronymous' throat, drawing a small trickle of blood.

Hieronymous had his head pressed back against the ground, to get as far away from the blade as possible. Taking advantage of her hesitation, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it hard, away from his throat. She yelped, releasing the weapon and he heard the knife fall harmlessly on the stones beside his head.

Clamping a hand around her other wrist, he rolled over and pinned her down.

She glared vehemently at him with her empty eyes.

He searched her face, looking for any sign of recognition there. He felt a sickening dread.

_Never have I seen or heard of anything at all like this. Her soul... _he wondered, looking at her cold, black gaze, his dread increasing._ Could this be... permanent?_

"Gwen," he prompted, searching her expression.

She didn't respond to her name.

"Damn it, say something!" he yelled, eyes full of concern.

She only looked on at him with her soulless, obsidian orbs.

"Why, Gwen?!" he shouted. "This is _just_ like you... I knew this would happen." He sighed heavily. "This is my fault... again. Damn you," he whispered the last two words, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

Finally exhausted, Gwen relaxed her muscles.

"Y-y-," she tried. "Yo-u... stubborn _bastard_, I told you to run."

The pitch black in her eyes faded away and the whites of her eyes returned, shining around her green irises. She smiled, this time in mirth.

Hieronymous let out a deep sigh of relief, returning her smile.

"_I did run_,"he said."Faster than I've ever run in my life!"

Releasing his grip, he wrapped his arms tenderly around her and drew her up into a tight hug.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he said.

"Likewise," she replied.

After a brief lull, Hieronymous exhaled sharply.

"How long are you intending on standing there, _father_?"

Aloysius stepped into the room from the doorway, "I'm glad to see you're safe."

Hieronymous gave his father a scathing look.

"Your political rival abducted me. Again. I can see talks are going great."

_ Again? _thought Gwen.

Hieronymous stood, and helped Gwen up. Feeling utterly exhausted, she was shaky on her feet. He placed one arm around her waist to support her, letting her lean into him.

"How did you find me?" Hieronymous asked.

"I thought…" Aloysius started to say, before changing his expression to a rich smile. "No, I wanted to believe you called me."

"Well, I knew exactly who's fault this was," Hieronymous said, but his words had no effect his father's hopeful gaze. He was impressed the location spell he had sent to his father had actually worked, he was sure it had failed.

Aloysius looked quizzically at his daughter-in-law. "Aren't you the least bit curious how Gwen got here? And-"

"I'm curious about a great many things, at present," Hieronymous interrupted. "However, right now I'm just grateful I have the luxury of being curious," he said, cringing while lightly touching his throat. "Father, what are we going to do about _him_?" he said, pointing at Alcinous.

The group turned to look at the white haired prisoner.

Alcinous locked his gaze onto Gwen's, giving her a look of pure loathing. Gwen returned his look in kind. She had never hated someone so much in her entire life. It was as if the hatred welled up deep within her, and it took every ounce of her self control not to act upon the feeling. As the two stared at each other, their animosity grew palpable.

"You stupid woman," he said. "I realized it from the moment I saw your eyes. Do you realize what you've done, releasing that _thing_ into the world?! Do you know what that monster is? What he's capable of?!"

"No," Gwen replied dryly, "but I know what you're capable of. But why don't you enlighten me? Choose your words carefully, however, as 'that monster' is right behind you."

Alcinous turned pale white, as he watched Agravian emerge from the shadows. The shadow assassin strode nonchalantly through the prison of light surrounding Alcinous. Grabbing Alcinous' white robe roughly he slammed him against the barrier of light.

"Where is she?"

"Abomination!" he spat. "I'll die before I tell you anything!"

"Of that, you can be sure," Agravian said with a wicked smile. With a snap of his finger, Alcinous disappeared, swallowed by shadow.

Agravian turned to his audience, walking casually through the barrier of light once more.

"My Lords," he greeted them, before turning to Gwen. "My Lady."

Tension filled the air. Hieronymous, giving the man a distrusting glare, broke the silence. "I'm not actually a lord," he said.

"Of course you're not, My Lord," Agravian said with a small smile.

Gwen had the distinct impression that Agravian used manners out of a sense of amusement, and very rarely out of respect. She believed that he enjoyed being overly polite, especially to those who assumed their magic made them superior. Through their link she noticed he was feeling both curious and protective of the two generations of Talfryn's descendants standing before him.

Gwen looked at Agravian's hood, wishing she could see his eyes. She could sense his thoughts and feelings unerringly, but somehow it felt impersonal, speaking to this man without eye contact.

"Earlier, I... lost control. I wanted to kill anything that moved. If it wasn't for your voice, I might have..." she shuddered. "I don't even want to think about it. What happened to me?"

"My sincerest apologies, I was somewhat... preoccupied earlier," Agravian said. "I should have realized sooner that you were... well, that you were experiencing what we call blood lust. When I left you on your own, I thought you'd stay in the shadows; I never thought you'd be engaged in combat. Scenting freshly drawn blood, especially for the first time, can be overwhelming. Fortunately, it looks like your husband was able to handle the situation long enough for you to come to your senses."

Agravian turned to face Hieronymous. "Quite well, I might add."

"Not well enough," Hieronymous replied.

"You did better than you know," he said with an enigmatic, smile.

'If you had married a white mage, you'd be a widow right now,' he mused telepathically to Gwen.

Gwen gave Agravian a wide-eyed look.

"What's going on?" Hieronymous interjected. "Who are you? What did you do with Alcinous?"

"Alcinous is, relatively, fine," he said. With a small bow, he added simply, "I am Shetlock's shade."

The two men stared blankly at Agravian.

"Neither of you have heard of me? Interesting."

Gwen tried to listen to their conversation, but felt she was nodding off. She closed her eyes, telling herself it would be just for a second, and fell fast asleep.

Gwen slumped, causing Hieronymous to falter a step before recovering and picking her up.

"She's asleep," Agravian said. "The first blood lust is always taxing."

"Who are you?" Hieronymous growled in a way that suggested he didn't appreciate repeating himself.

"Of course, how rude of me. I'm sure you would like a proper introduction."

With that, Agravian chuckled and vanished, swallowed by shadows.

"Oh, I _like _him," Aloysius said, "very mysterious."

Hieronymous shook his head at his father's enthusiasm.

"You mean dangerous," Hieronymous said.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Agravian's voice made them both jump. He reappeared suddenly in front of Hieronymous. "My student."

Agravian grabbed Gwen's arm. The air rippled and then they both dispersed into fragments of shadow before disappearing.


End file.
